Little bits of fluff that get stuck to things.

Babylon 5 binge is go.

2011-09-07T22:26:00.001-07:00

Because my birthday is coming up...

Because I had the foresight to work out an Amazon wishlist for the first time.. er.. ever...

Because Chris is FANTASTIC and loves me and has the excellent taste to share my interest...

(And because Amazon is listing all the suckers at approx. 1/3 the usual price, hint hint, this is the time to look...)

...we are now the proud owners of our very own complete set of Babylon 5.

No more hauling a season's worth of my mother's VHS tapes up from LA when we realize we might want to have access. No more waiting months to trade it out for another season. No more years of drought because we didn't think to do it or she was re-watching or...

Granted, seeing the commercials that were being aired in Torrance in 1998 on TNT during the original airing of River of Souls was kind of an amazing time capsule. Especially the one for how they were going to be recording Monday Night RAW at the Anaheim Pond (back when it was still the Duck pond, bless it), because I remember watching that commercial then, and we went, and we even trekked out to Venice Beach because Chyna and Triple H were going to be hanging out at the outdoor gym and we wanted to meet them and she was so freaking sweet and I still remember her nail polish...

...but not a really sustainable relationship. And anyway, I'm on a Bruce Boxleitner binge and have run out of movie-of-the-week Westerns from the 90s that are available for instant streaming. I'm going to be good and wait out Michael O'Hare--we're starting over from the beginning, just watched the pilot, The Gathering, last night--but it won't be long.

Anyway, short version: love.

Newer update!

2011-01-25T14:15:00.000-08:00

All is well. Everyone who sent good vibes: it worked great. Everyone at Kaiser was wonderful and kind, and they even got me in early and gave me pictures, after; everything went swimmingly. I'm home safe and sound, now, one ovary (and one tangerine-sized cyst attached thereto) lighter. Gotta' take it easy, but everything should be fine in a few weeks. Now I'm going to slip back into a sweet, snuggly, slightly anaesthetized nap with my kitties, but wanted everyone to know things are fine first. Love you all so much. <3

Update:

2011-01-24T15:37:00.000-08:00

I have surgery in the morning (laparoscopic cystectomy, woooo). I'll be home tomorrow afternoon and everything should be fine, but thought everybody should be in the loop.

Don Tortuga

2010-06-20T17:42:00.001-07:00

Okay, we've got a turtle.

It's been a week with no response from anyone. Seems like he'd just crawl right back out of Christina's pond if we tried to put him there. ...And I'm attached. So I'm not sure how I'd feel about a "hey, anyone want a turtle?" post on Craigslist, considering how he came to me in the first place.

(Yes I am--I'd be suspicious of askers and guilty about giving him up or prying about living-conditions-to-come.)

So, we committed. We have a turtle.

He doesn't have a name yet; we think his surname is Tortuga (Spanish for Turtle, and just an awesome sounding name as it is), so for now we're calling him Don Tortuga and "TURTLETURTLETURTLE!" but we'll see about a proper first name soon.

Finally figured out a reasonable spot for him, where *I* can get to him and clean him, since this is on me. I spent the day outfitting him with a tank and appropriate turtle accoutrement and plants and pretties, and he seems pleased. He's still in the process of exploring, but at least now he can hide and swim. He still hasn't figured out the basking thing, but maybe he'll get there soonish, now that he has a light to encourage him up there.

There are some pictures from his previous home (especially of him playing Headless Horseman and making Sleepy Face), but there will be proper, well-lit pictures from his new home, soon, and you can all see the handsome tortuga!

Hrm.

2010-06-13T13:31:00.000-07:00

So we have a (temporary) houseguest.

It is a turtle.

He swam into my backyard (...they over-water, at these places) from under a neighbor's fence, and he doesn't belong to that neighbor. Or the neighbor on the other side, or to anyone the manager of our complex knows of, or to the neighbor beyond the neighbor on the other side, or to the man I yelled to from my upstairs window who was in the yard of the house behind the neighbor whose fence he swam under, or the other people who answered their doors when I knocked. (This turtle is helping to socialize me.) My bets are currently on the people behind *our* place, whose fence overlaps a little with next door, and who frequently neglect animals in their backyard, but I haven't seen them out to call down and I'm not sure from the street which house is theirs. And I'm not sure I want to go hand it to them if they don't call and ask, considering how poorly everything else I've seen back there tends to look.

So I've posted on Craigslist and put up a few signs on the blocks of mailboxes for our complex and for the street behind, and we're hoping. And in the meantime, one of my neighbors very sweetly let me borrow an aquarium tank, and after some research I'm doing what meagre I can to make him a little basking dock considering I have no driftwood and no large rocks, though so far he's a little too freaked out to come out of the water onto it. He's in a warm room.

Spinach and cherries is what I have that I can think of to feed him, so far.

Of all the myriad critters I have impromptu cared for before or had in the menagerie we called our house growing up, I have never, ever had a turtle. Or known anyone who had a turtle.

Sooo. Anyone know some home-grown temporary care tips for a Red-Eared Slider Turtle?

...Hrm.

2010-06-08T22:32:00.001-07:00

I should have written this before, but:

California, plz to be remembering that all those rolling blackouts we had a few years ago? were the direct result of privatizing energy, NOT of the Democratic governor we got afterwards. The few areas with remaining public utilities did NOT lose power. In LA (with our public LADWP) we sat back on our laurels and didn't have to worry about energy strapped Edison and PG&E selling our short energy to their shell companies in other states and then buying it back at a higher rate from themselves, consequently cranking up rates to customers, and then not having enough to satisfy demands (in accordance with the scripture of profit maximization in the free market).

....You realize that's what Prop. 16 would encourage. Right..?

....That it means there would be overwhelming hurdles to switch any of the privatized districts back over to public utilities ever, and that it would likely be impossible to ever overcome that again...?

Plz to be considering. Thx.

Whiplash update

2010-05-16T13:24:00.000-07:00

The brief disjointed semi-clinical version because it's difficult to appropriately react to the good things and the bad things in the same confined space in any kind of meaningful way and can't work out writing four separate whiplash entries:

MSO concerts (performing Verdi's Requiem) were this weekend, fantastic - Friday night was amazing. Chris said best MSO concert he's ever seen. Other MSO folk thought Saturday was somehow even better; I felt like I wasn't as good, and am persisting let down, but that may be the lack of St. John's Wort talking.

Still haven't heard back about the second ultrasound, yet (plan to ask about going back on the St. John's Wort then). Would really like to know soon.

Allergies are death.

Hands/wrists/forearms have stopped working; awful persistent pain with.. well.. any use. Limiting typing and computer work as much as possible. Also can't knit, crochet, wind yarn, hold needles for sewing, hold pencils for any length, play guitar or ukulele, or hold a book - can't grip anything for any length - not sure what options this leaves me for any activity at all. (What doesn't use your hands?) Hours on end of point-and-click computer work and knitting bingeing appear to have been the proximate triggers. Keep testing to see if I can start again and inevitably fail in flames. Then had to hold the heavy Verdi score in untenable hand position for the 4 hour Thurs. rehearsal, the 2 hr Fri dress, the 2 hr Fri concert, and the 2 hr Sat concert. Yesterday had trouble holding a water glass without spilling it on myself, or holding my fork long enough to eat my dinner. Yes: having to take breaks while eating. Had to get a brace for the score-holding, but am indeed going to the doctor to see how to deal with/fix/cope with this. Absolutely miserable.

Considering going out and buying a hard back, to see if I can kind of pin it open with a cookbook holder to read. REALLY don't want to spend the next week of my life with TV and cleaning* as my only solo activities. (*Failed at the attempt at dusting/scrubbing, too; broke a favorite old ceramic I'd made.) Plus, will have to work, not many options to not. Can't really work without aggravating, though. May still risk knitting night because I'm going crazy, but we'll see.

Did have a good Modesto/Turlock experience Fri/Sat - hit three different farmers markets and kinda' was able to pretend these are walking cities, rather than commuter cities. Felt a little better. Saw an absurd number of people I recognize, for this area, felt a little less disconnected from it.

SF went well; got there and back w/out a hitch, events were awesome, had some good San Francisco Experiences and good walking and wandering, even if some of it was in dispiriting pursuit of wifi or after taking the absolutely wrong BART stop for my frivolity. Loved the trip; hate traveling without Chris. The two bettas I got the Saturday before leaving died the Wednesday I left. They didn't have names yet. Think their demise is my fault.

One of mom's cats--a sweetie goof named Biscuit--has gone missing, been gone for two weeks.

Albert is dead. Tried tree guy at nursery, emergency surgery, emergency repot, but failed utterly. I'm so sorry.

Love--

Oh, for fuck's sake.

2010-05-14T10:31:00.000-07:00

Dear California,

Please raise my taxes.

Sincerely,
Lauren

Update: letters to gov + senate/assembly reps.

The version for the governor:

Dear Governor Schwarzenegger,

Please raise my taxes.

Please.

A few percent off of income to spare devastating cuts to important social services and programs will cost us so much less in the long term; fewer disenfranchised and desperate people, fewer students without books, fewer elderly without care, and fewer people ill with no recourse is well worth a lot more of my money than I am currently giving to the state. I love my state and I owe her plenty for all she has given me; please ask for it. I will give it gladly.

Thank you,
[Name]
Life-long Californian

Version for Senator and Assemblyperson (altered because they're so publically committed to reducing spending to the exclusion of raising funding):

Dear Senator Denham / Assemblyman Berryhill,

Please raise my taxes.

Please.

For the sake of protecting our state, we cannot continue to reduce spending rather than raise income. A few percent off of income to spare devastating cuts to important social services and programs will cost us so much less in the long term; fewer disenfranchised and desperate people, fewer students without books, fewer elderly without care, and fewer people ill with no recourse is well worth a lot more of my money than I am currently giving to the state. I love my state and I owe her plenty for all she has given me; please ask for it. I will give it gladly.

Thank you,
[Name]
Life-long Californian

Scattered showers.

2010-04-15T01:26:00.001-07:00

So my earthquake prediction was superfluous at best. According to the US Geological Survey's site, there were 32 quakes notable (3.5 or above) in the SoCal region between Jan 1 and April 3 (i.e. before the big Easter quake).

From April 4th to now, there have been 157. (And at least 14 of those first 32 were probably foreshocks.)

So, uh. Yeah. Quakes in SoCal--check. So far nothing big on the San Andreas proper, though, which is to tell the whole truth what I had in mind.

(Decided to look it up because the cats were acting powerful weird, today. But I think in retrospect they've just caught my cold. Which brings me to: )

Gotta cold. :( I got sick once a year, when I was a kid. And I've been sick five times in as many months, now. And I think I gave it to the cats, which is awful, they're being completely pathetic mama'spoorbabiesmama'ssososorry.

And of course, as is foretold in the scriptures, if I am sick, I will be busy. And if I am busy--especially if I am in some way essential to someone else's being able to get things done--I will get sick. Hélas.

I am busier tomorrow, which is nice. Tomorrow, they try to echolocate my uterus ~~for fun and profit~~ ~~to see if it's been secretly replaced with a kitchen appliance or crocheted facsimile thereof~~ to look for fibroids, which were the bane of my mother's existence before she went nuclear on them. She was 42, but I'm precocious.

Is it weird/terrible that I want it to look awful? Does that make any sense? I want there to be an excuse. I will feel pretty hopeless if there's not a ready culprit to blame for the last fifteen years of fun with questionable reproductive health.

Also tomorrow, we're going to the Stanislaus 50 Year Golden Gala - not the main school event this summer that will celebrate the 50 year anniversary of our founding that you .. um.. may have heard about, depending on how closely you follow .. . oh.. LA Times, CNN, Fox, Reuters/AP.. Yahoo news feeds.. . but a Music department fundraiser commemorating the same that should be fabulous (please let me not sneeze through it or be.. like.. virulent and infect everyone around me).

...And if you are outside central California and have caught wind of these things, and wondered where you'd heard the name "Stanislaus" before, well--you probably heard it here. That's us: we're so, so proud.

Please, Leland--and please, Mr. Brown--save us from ourselves. Or rather, save us from our fucking foundation board. - Hugs and kisses, Lauren.

P.S. I require bendy straws.

That's your horoscope for today.

2010-04-11T18:33:00.000-07:00

What a strange weekend.

At the conference we were at, we were crashed by a con woman, two people passed out, nobody slept, and there were a whole lot of jittery, anxious, tense people. And (when we passed through Bakersfield) there was definitely a kind of Biblical plague motif replete with sandstorm and random hard objects coming from the sky.

Plus, earthquake weather.

(If an earthquake hits SoCal today, someone will owe me a nickel. But I will probably not want it.)

In other news: it's cold and wet, here. My cats are still fat (fatter, even), despite a year of strict dieting. I must have said the magic words to the doc, because I get an ultrasound Thursday. The ugly lumps on my mom's back (we thought they were a reaction to spider bites) may be shingles, and I have what I assume are actually spider bites turning into ugly lumps on my legs. In two weeks, I get to attend/man/help out at my first NESsT event, in SF. ...Now I just need to figure out how to get to SF from here. Wish me luck!

PSA

2010-04-08T10:13:00.001-07:00

Heads up in case anyone else out there has a credit card with 1st Financial Bank USA:

I got a notice a while back saying they were going to make some unpleasant change to my account, and that I could opt out of it. And that if I opted out, they'd close out my account at the end of the next billing cycle.

So I didn't opt out.

Well, I got another notice more recently saying that they were going to assess an annual fee to my account (because clearly their hardships are so great, in spite of disgusting APRs, that they need to scrape a little more off). And that I could opt out. No threat of closing my account. I tried to email--to see if there was some kind of punishment for opting out that they weren't mentioning--but they declined to respond.

Well, I finally called this morning, and they were very nice, and much to my surprise, just repeated their spiel about their hardships and how they're trying to raise revenue, and... opted me out. No penalty.

So let me recap. There is an annual fee being assessed on every count, unless you ask them not to.

They are essentially hoping (a) you won't read the notice, (b) you'll assume there's a catch and not risk it, (c) you'll decide for the good of 1FBUSA that you don't mind, or (d) you'll forget about it. They are literally levying a fee for not reading a smaller type face.

So if you have a card with them, and haven't already opted out, I just thought I'd let you know that you could without a hassle! Cheers.

Some caveats.

2010-04-04T22:31:00.000-07:00

I embarrass easily. Too easily. I am awkward and paranoid of upsetting or being upset. I second guess myself immediately when I've said or done something that could even POSSIBLY have potentially discomforted anyone in any way, or be considered unfair, and immediately work up a superficial case for proof that I have done so and that I should try to fix it.

That has some bearing on the rest of this post, so I figured I should mention up front.

First of all, I'm in LA. I don't ever mention that I'm going or that I've been, if it's going to be a short or busy trip and I don't have time to stop and see anyone non-familia down here. This is primarily due to the awkward, embarrassed paranoia. I hate the prospect of telling anyone I won't be able to see them. This potentially antisocial behavior will probably continue, and I am only mentioning it now because:

This afternoon we were in Long Beach, which is some 330 miles closer to Mexicali than Turlock is. And though we were still some 150 miles away from the epicenter, we still felt the earthquake significantly and for a long time.

BUT: we are all okay. Far enough away that it had left the jar-your-foundation-into-dust mode and gone right into roll-the-whole-area-like-a-tilt-a-whirl. ....It was really neat from Long Beach, actually, just lovely and big and rolling and lilting for a couple minutes. I love feeling earthquakes, but I know I'm really lucky to be away from the epicenter and without property damage (another caveat added due to paranoia).

Second of all, and unrelated to the earthquake, but related to my awkwardness/paranoia caveat and to my previous post:

I hope it was very clear to everyone that I did NOT mean that the lynch-ish racist segment of our population = everyone opposed to the health care bill, or even everyone into the Tea Party movement. (....You got that, right...?)

I think that that kind of hateful/fearful crisis fervor is clearly a core motivation for a significant number of people involved in these things (see also: the upsurge in Christian militia movements). But I DO know that people can have very different motives and lines of reasoning for being involved, completely unrelated to that. I may not agree with your position, but that doesn't mean I think you appreciate or condone what assholes are doing under your banner, or that you think the way they do.

Just... needed to make sure that was really clear.

Okay. < / paranoid clarifications. > (There are more, but there really is no place for them here.)

I hope everyone else is okay earthquake-wise, and that everyone you know is okay, and that our jokes about incoming tsunamis prove to be just that. I am going to bed, and then we're getting in the car and going back home. ...I am sad we will probably not feel the aftershocks. (Write your own caveat here.) Although after southern Chile, northern Chile, and northern Mexico, we kind of wonder if there's an arrow pointed up towards L.A. and San Francisco. We're going to lay by some water and cat food, just in case.

Because I haven't posted about it yet...

2010-03-26T22:35:00.000-07:00

So Monday night, when Chris was driving home from class, someone pulled up behind him honking, then pulled up beside him, and flipped him off.

Chris went: ?
And then: Oh. Right. Obama sticker on the back of the car. (This sort of thing happens in Turlock.)

The articulate driver rolled down his window to engage in political discourse (i.e. yell at Chris while he was a captive audience at the light). Chris obliged by rolling his down, too.

The unhappy driver's irate contribution was, "You actually like what this guy is doing to the country?"

And Chris, though enchanted, just rolled back up his window and continued home.

It was sort of par for the day--light, for the day. Teabaggers were busy accosting Democrats in the House, spitting on and yelling ni**er at black congressmen, and otherwise clarifying their position. Health care reform opponents were also cutting propane lines, throwing bricks, and generally making threats to people voting for reform.

...Now I know there's such a thing as getting riled up. I know there can be a lack of discipline at rallies, and that people can act out. But you know what a lack of discipline looks like at the kind of political actions I participate in? Sneaking in a mismatched flag that's not part of the message. Or letting out a "Where the fuck's the funding?," or getting snarkier on a sign than is necessary. It does NOT look like violence, racial slurs, or an actual need for extra security.

Number one rule of protesting: You demonstrate the comparative righteousness of your position if--though YOU are nonviolent--the opposition's only way to deal with you is to become violent themselves. Violence towards protesters sitting in or blocking the way or just being there is an admission of having nothing intelligent to say on the matter, is an acknowledgment that your position does not hold up on its own. Violence is the recourse of badly seated power, because it cannot win an argument, cannot peacefully engage, cannot win its aims by legitimate means, but only by a show of force or intimidation.

The dynamic can be made just as clear when the protest is what turns violent and ugly in the face of attempts at peaceful discourse.

If there's going to be a total regression of a segment of our country into the old let's-lynch-black-people-and-socialists days, I hope that the nature of said movement will at least become a little clearer to the general public. Not much in the way of silver lining.

...But you know what is?

32 million newly insured Americans. People getting to actually go to the doctor when they have a stomach ache, rather than when their appendix is already septic and about to rupture (unlike my baby brother, who got dumped off of my mom's insurance just in time to need major surgery, instead of timely surgery). People getting vaccinations and preventative care cheap, before we get rampant epidemics from untreated diseases and have to pay several times more to treat them in ERs anyway. And just possibly, maybe a little lowering in the absurdly high infant death rates and deaths from preventable diseases. Oh, and a lowering in the deficit. Oh, and of the overall costs of health care. Improvements in the lives of EVERYONE in this country, not just the ones who were uninsured.

Getting honked at and yelled at really seems absolutely worth it. Once in a while, persisting peacefully in the right works out.

Aventures in Animism (picspam day.. um.. continued)

2010-03-13T16:53:00.001-08:00

...Because I just finished Bunny's sweater.

Doesn't he look handsome?

And while I'm at it..

Fred and Albert over Christmas:

(Albert looked like something out of Dr. Seuss. I thought this was a romantic shot.)

Clearly, I have spent the last two days drinking tea on the sofa while knitting and watching the first couple seasons of Ballykissangel. It's the only explanation.

Important: tomorrow is international Pi day (get it? 3.14?) and also Albert Einstein's birthday (another reason I had to post Albert pics). Double-geek holiday! We are making pies (HA HA), and if I can manage to get Chris to suffer it, watching Young Einstein.

And Wednesday, of course, is St. Patrick's Day. I may omit the traditional recipe/music/something maudlin post, this year; please take it as read! I will be cooking, singing, and drinking well into the night.

LOVE!

Hair

2010-03-10T00:06:00.000-08:00

This is my fifth attempt at writing this post. I hope this is the healthier, happier, more positive version:

Hair can be healthy.

Hair on a female body is not more unclean than hair on a male body; women who do not shave are not somehow unhygienic, and will not smell any worse than anyone else who does not shave. Hair on a female body does not grow longer than hair on a male body; left unchecked, it will not dangle several feet or turn into an underarm fright wig. Like male body hair, it will grow, stop being stubbly, soften, and stop getting longer, just like all the rest of the hair on every other part of every other body.

It is not somehow natural or inherently right to remove hair: women have not been shaving forever, and in the US, shaving underarms started with ad campaigns in the 1910's, and leg shaving sometime during WWII. Hair has served an evolutionary purpose in our history; before it thinned out, it served to warm us, and it still makes us more sensitive to our surroundings. Thicker patches help regulate temperature and carry pheromones out to other members of our species, which those of us prone to smelling one another can find to be a positive experience.

Women who do not shave are not messy or lazy; they have a variety of reasons for not shaving, aesthetic, political, social, or sensual. They are not by some strange commutative property overweight and unattractive. They are not unmatchable, as far as mates are concerned, whatever their gender of preference. There are plenty of people who don't care, who don't mind, who come to understand, who slightly prefer, who appreciate, or who adore body hair. They have a variety of reasons for that, too.

Hair is not the enemy. Hair can be fun; hair can be pretty; hair can be sexy. Hair can be soft, gentle, and comfortable. Hair can be confident and strong. Hair can be wild and feral; hair can be demure and tidy. It can be feminine; it can be feminist. It can be sweet and it can be stubborn. Hair can be anything we want it to be, and we do not have to hate it or be afraid of it. It is ours to do anything we like with. If that happens to be removing it, then happy hunting. And if not, it is ours to keep in peace and pleasure and thrift and comfort and anything else we like.

I FINISHED THE SHAWL!

2010-02-26T00:19:00.001-08:00

Pic spam, I can't help it:

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!

And then Arthur helpfully modeled the shawl:

...and so did Chris!

...And one more vamping it up, just for fun:

I started this damn thing in August and put it down (several times), but now it is finishéd, and I love it to pieces. I think I should wear it absolutely everywhere, for a while, and just preen. RAVELYMPIC GOOOOOLD!

Pic spam day, part one: Impossible Cuteness of a Cat Nature

2010-02-25T12:26:00.001-08:00

I haven't shared photos in a long time.

I have a lot.

So easiest may be to do it in waves, and just link you to pics on photobucket. So round one:
The kitten album.

If you want to just ooh and awww at all the collected sweetness (or rather, the fraction of the collected sweetness I have uploaded over the years - they just had their second birthday, btw!), you can go there and peruse new and old at your leisure. But here are the new additions broken down:

Alex thinks Chris is a chair and a catbed. (Or maybe a jungle gym, s'hard to say.) Alex is also huge.

They are both impossibly snuggly, with one another and with us.

Talk about love, man.

But here's one pic of them being both impossibly snuggly and impossibly cute. HB (the stuffed Bunny) is in the pic with them.

One, two, three: Awwwwwww

Later today (possibly): a very Fred and Albert Christmas, a very monochrome Halloween, and at least one good picture of my enormous, FINISHED, Blocking-as-We-Speak shawl.

Man I'm behind.

LOVE to you all!

SWEETNESS!

2010-02-21T21:07:00.000-08:00

Mom called to point this out to me.

This photo which I link is from the website of J.R. Celski, USA Olympic Speedskating Bronze Medalist and All-Around Cutie-Pie.

Three boys in this picture. Said Cutie-Pie is on the left. And the shaggy-haired delinquent on the right...

(Lakewood in the house!)

...is my baby* cousin!

Is it not a small world?

(Cousin has talked about his friend a number of times in recent memory, including mentioning the Olympics. It took me until about four days ago to put it together. Or rather, for my mom to call and remind me, and me then remember. Go me!)

I estimate they were maybe 14 in this picture, and are obviously a lot more grown up and (at least in cousin's case) significantly less shaggy. Ah, how the time flies...

*He is not really so much a baby, being something absurdly like 21, but I retain the right to label him in this way, because I remember his birth. It counts!

ETA: The more I look at this picture, the more I am certain I have met this boy at least once. Probably briefly, while said boys were transiting through (as teen boys do) from one door to the next during a family function. I could easily be making this up, though.

Memo to Meg:

2010-02-13T16:25:00.000-08:00

Your priorities are (according to your ad spots that I cannot seem to escape) to create and keep jobs, cut government spending, and fix education...

And you say you're disappointed to see how far California has fallen, in the 'many years' you've been here, and that you want to bring us back to where we were...

But I gotta' help you out with your California history, here. Or else with your connective logic; I'm not sure where the problem is.

Do you know when California had the best educational system in the country, Meg? With incredible access to higher ed and successful K-12?

When we had higher property taxes. Before we decided we needed 2/3 of the legislature to approve any tax or fee or pass a budget, rather than a simple majority, but that a simple majority could cut a tax or fee, or write in corporate loopholes. Before we started giving corporate welfare to Wal-Mart.

Yes, on the surface, our business tax is very high, in CA. Much higher than other places. But the effective tax rate - after all of the gaping loopholes - is one of the lowest in the country.

Yes, we had very high property tax rates, in the '70s. But now, they're (again) one of the lowest in the country.

Our spending per pupil has also dropped to 49th. We were first in the nation, when our K-12 was dazzling. You know what property taxes paid for in California?

Education.

Our budget crisis is not a crisis of excessive spending; there is no public spending left. Our budget crisis is a crisis of inadequate inflow.

So the second point is a point of connections.

Education--all education in California--is critically, criminally underfunded. Access has been destroyed, as individual costs have skyrocketed and funding has crashed. Education is a large part of the public sector - a little over half of our general fund goes there (which makes sense; we have 6,259,972 students in public K-12 alone - add in 191,000 in UC, and 417,112 at CSU, and around 2,500,000 students in our community colleges; around 9.4 million students all told.)

"Education" is government spending. It cannot be cut any further. Even Schwarzenegger has accepted this point. It's been cut too far; we cut so far we screwed ourselves out of stimulus funding, if that's not the irony to beat all ironies. We've cut so far that we've failed to follow our own laws about how great a percentage of high school students we will accept into higher ed.

So I guess what I mean to say is this: You cannot both cut government spending and fix education. You cannot both cut government spending and take us back "to where we were." You certainly can't create a corporate capitalist version of tax utopia and fix the schools.

And I'm so, so disappointed that you have so much money that I'm seeing YOUR ads all over TV already, and have yet to see a spot for Jerry Brown.

(Brown, by the way, was governor when we DID have a functioning educational system, when we were rolling in the fucking milk and honey. If you want things back "the way they were," maybe you should throw some funding behind him, hm?)

Now. Back to my Olympics (and consequently, my Ravelympics: I'm participating in Event WIP Dancing, though if I get far enough ahead, I may take up some Event Sock Hockey or Hat Halfpipe - wish me luck!). Just needed to get that out, first.

JCS; Makala

2010-01-23T18:26:00.001-08:00

TED FUCKING NEELEY - TONIGHT. In frickin' Modesto. Jesus Christ Superstar here we come!!!!!

Also: ukelele! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

This is my day. This is a good day.

PINK STAG W BLK BOA

2010-01-10T21:46:00.000-08:00

Electric Moose Disco would be a great band name.

It doesn't fit the usual pattern; Chris and I remark on this often, but (three to four syllable adjective) + (one to two syllable noun) is reliable. Esp. in 3 + 1 format.

Viable Frog was the first, and was honestly and seriously considered as a name to use when we started recording the songs wrote (so was Rum and Peaches) before we decided on Paper Cats (which doesn't fit the rule but isn't excluded by it, either). But it always works; they don't even have to make sense, you can just start slinging them together. Here:

Harmonious Finks
Serpentine Pine
Volatile Mercy
Concentric Penguins
Dubious Shoes (that would have to be "The Dubious Shoes," I think)
Carnation Theory
Radical Albert
Windowpane Clams

(....I recognize that carnation and windowpane are nouns, but they do modify the following nouns, so I think that counts.)

Bombastic Bits (also a "The" here, I think)
Delicious Dish
Propagated Fog
Licentious Fig
Blasphemous Rumors (with nods to Depeche Mode)
Psionic Modes
Psychotic Pig
Triumphant Strumpet

I mean, seriously. And all this discovered because of an offhand comment in Zoology lab.

But Electric Moose Disco, despite adding on the formula, is my favorite of the day.

And that one exists because, for two dollars at the Borders, from their Christmas Clearance bin, I bought what is labeled "STAG PINK W BLK BOA" on the back of the tag. ...I will let you just ponder on that a while.

EDIT to add: I recommend wasting a minute on the band name thing. <3

Perspective

2010-01-08T00:04:00.000-08:00

I've been attached to CSU Stanislaus since autumn of 2001. I'm fast approaching a decade, although it looks like I won't quite make it, after all. But that's besides.

I have been here nine years, and I have learned a little perspective about this place. I have watched it change, for better and for worse, and I have watched it grow, and I have seen it cut back, and I have kept involved as intimately as I might. I mean to say that I have a depth of feeling about it and a breadth of knowledge about it, and given that, I just want to say this:

In my nine years here, I have met a lot of faculty, and I have met some of my favorite human beings among them--brilliant, humane, funny, kind, conscientious, beautiful, loving, committed, passionate people. And I knew my share of students when attending--of course--but it seems like the students I'm meeting these days are amazing human beings, people who are paying attention with care and wonder to the world around them, souls of peaceful, powerful principle, with energy and devotion and a fullness of love and spirit.

They are the best of this place. They are beautiful. I cherish these people. I know they are the best of us.

There are arguments to be had and fights to fight and slanders to be unwritten and misunderstandings to be reworked, but I have nothing productive to say for that, right now, and it's eating at me a little. I know I cannot by my useless and restless angst make anything better for these often maligned, much maltreated, roundly abused, often libeled, mistrusted, feared, and disdained. I cannot drag the community as a whole kicking and screaming and blinking into an understanding of what is happening here, certainly not by force or by derision or by woe.

All I can do is repeat this: this faculty, these students, they are the best of us. They are the hope of this community, of this state, of this country. They are thoughtful and they are precious, they are wise and they are righteous and they are humble, too. They are beautiful creatures and they deserve love. I love them, and I have loved them, and I will love them still and more and more.

-LOVE

Wonderful New Year

2010-01-02T00:00:00.000-08:00

It's a time for introspection, I suppose.

(Wow, was that the most clichéd opening line to a New Year's Blog Post™ ever?)

I'm one of the few who liked 2009 moderately well--primarily because it wasn't 2008, I suppose, but that's me. It was like how in high school I got senioritis out of the way in 10th grade, free to move on to the hell of the final year with better spirits and on stronger footing.

Which is to say: after the disastrous shit fest of loss and death and anxiety and existential distress that 2008 was, 2009 didn't seem so bad, loss of promise of security and onslaught of up-in-the-airness besides. "2010 will be the year to deal with that," I promised myself, by way of making way for what joy and comfort could be had in 2009. I made it the eye of the storm, because if you don't take the time for that sort of thing while you can, it's just going to be that much worse when the easier bit is over. It's always best to take joy when you can get it.

But now 2010 is here and it's time to settle in, I suppose.

State of the household:

There have been, in case you haven't heard from us yet, no takers yet on any of the jobs Chris has applied for. No non-takers, either--no feedback at all. I'm hoping that, because it was the holidays, people were on hiatus and not really making decisions for a little while--or not acting on them if they did. I'm hoping that typing this will shame fate into making me a liar by getting us some responses. Hopefully the next week or two will bring some word, one way or another, so at least so we know where we stand.

I've been a busy bee writing and knitting and drawing and working variously, and generally existing in a holding pattern. Lee--bless his soul--has said that my job is here for me as long as I am, though we don't know how long that is. Part of me (the part that is working through the stages of grief about the thing in no particular order) is bargaining--with no one--about keeping the job even if we've moved. Most of my work, the argument goes, is virtual anyway. All of my work for Consulting is--and sometimes there's a lot of that. My job has grown! My work spans two states and three countries! And you know, most of my local work is (or can be) done online/by mail, as well.

But, says the counter argument, what does that leave? What would be leftover for a replacement to do? Only the physical errands. And a very, very small number of physical errands per month. Which is to say: not much of a job to advertise. While I would love to sit at a distance and do every bit of the database work I can, and maybe swing all of the petty cash by mail, and do all of the little assorted things that come to me online, and have all of my meetings by Skype... I can't imagine many people out there are looking for a few hours a month of bank and post office runs. (Although if they were mailing me receipts to process and hours to code &c...)

...No, probably not.

Not that I won't ask about it, though. I don't want to leave NESsT. Not one bit.

Generally speaking, on the potential move-front, though, I can already see myself making my traditional cutting-my-losses gestures. They've been fended off, 'til now--and maybe it's just the weather right now--but I've really never been good at being a social or material creature, however lonely or packratty I tend to be; my loyalties are few and carefully guarded, and the endangered ones are starting to slip, already, starting to be divided into piles. I'm feeling easily frustrated, easily discouraged, ready to stop going out, ready to sever or loosen ties, ready to give away or sell possessions, ready to consolidate plants into fewer pots, ready to use up or give up or put away--it's a kind of slow and cynical panic. Wouldn't that tree be happier in my mother's yard? Should I really go to knitting group? Maybe I should be popping in on that writing group instead, remind myself how to make new acquaintances. Or maybe I should take a class at the adult school with a finite time limit and little chance for attachments..... . .

Etc.

Maybe we'll start busking at the Borders. It might be a good investment, time-wise. Force us out of shyness, and maybe store a couple bucks for times ahead. Maybe I should start knitting my stash into things I could sell, and have the space, have one less bag to move.

...I feel like I should make resolutions. Like...

No more yarn?

Plot out crafts to use up or clean up debris and unwieldiness?

Focus writing efforts (not exclusively, but regularly) along productive lines. Try to actually finish things.

Vanity: lost ten pounds last year, try for ten more. Or at least five; want to fit in that choir dress comfortably again, in May, in case it's the last time I get to wear it.

Maybe more existential things should go on the list: Like embracing the wanderlust again, so when a move comes I'm not terrified of the leap. Like finding productive ways to divert tension, anxiety, and depression. Like not dwelling on arguments or tense situations in the first place, like not having arguments with imaginary (or at least imagined) opponents in my head. Like not feeling like I have to help fix everyone, or like I'm failing the world if I fail to argue or educate someone out of a perspectiveless vacuum they're existing in. Like letting go a little of the reins and embracing the helplessness. Like not being so afraid.

Get back to the yoga. And stop reading comments on news, politics, and video sites--at all. Seriously. I'm not sure how to get people to stop baiting me, or what the best way to deal with it is when it happens anyway, but I imagine it has to do with a balance between principles re: a topic and principles re: my behavior, and figuring out how much patience is the right amount of patience. I've never been good at that. No one has ever accused me of picking my battles correctly, even though sometimes I'm sure I'm doing exactly that. Not really any telling.

And remember to embrace joy and music and happiness wherever I may find it. Love and be loved and give love. Play with the cats more. Play with Chris more. Play the piano more. Sing more--yes, more. Bring on the wonder.

I hope--I am ever a creature of hope--for the best, for everyone. May you all have a 2010 full of joy and hope and wonder.

Here is a little to start with: Bring on the wonder. - LOVE

Inevitable back-from-holidays post! + appeal for good juju!

2009-12-28T23:55:00.000-08:00

Holidays were busy! Basically good! Got to see/phone relatives and friends I haven't seen in a long time, which was really, really nice.

Helplessly reduced version

AV media:
Saw the Hangover, Dark Knight & Star Trek (thank you Carl!), and (for the second time) Hopscotch. Couldn't keep the slash goggles off, on those last two, I'm afraid (I know; I'm sorry. Yes, even Matthau). About ran out to see Sherlock Holmes; barely kept it in my pants. Will break down soon. Got to play my mom some fantastic music, incl. "Madam George" by Van Morrison, which I sometimes get obsessed with (and which she knew, btw, just not by title). Tried to show her some Kids in the Hall but don't think she was thrilled (alas!). Didn't get to show her Alice. Got to play/sings all those holiday songs Chris and I have been working on - we learned some non-depressed ones this year. (Last year or year before we learned "I'll Be Home For Christmas," "Happy Christmas (War Is Over)," and "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," mostly to make me cry.) This year we've been working up the light and non-specific stuff: "No Place Like Home For the Holidays," "Let it Snow," "Santa Baby." Picked up last minute some "White Christmas," "Deck the Halls" and "What Child Is This?" because pretty.

Cards:
Learned Euchre! Fun! Played that, Hearts, Pinochle galore. Never did send out cards. :\

Readin', Writin' and 'rithma--well, arts an crafts:
Got to read more Sandman (THANK YOU CARL!). Spent the car ride home on digging into various unfinished chapters. Knit another Möbius (that's number four--third for my mom). Started some gloves with some graciously provided yarn from family friend! Drew random pages I'm not sure I'll be able to use, but would like to at some point. Productive car ride!

Acquisitions department:
Light, which is good. Inherited an old sweater of my dad's that no one's worn in.. well, twelve + years, now, and can't seem to take it off (mostly, it's cold). Thirteenth Christmas without my dad, this year. But my sixth Christmas with Chris. That's amazing to think about, too. Chris, who magically remembers everything I say in even vague "Oh, it might be nice to have a..." got someone a flock of chicks for me, through Heifer International, which I think is the most thoughtful and wonderful gift I've gotten in a long, long time.

Complications:
Among others... Albert.

So we were gone several days, but it was really cold and frosty, and I didn't get a chance to acclimatize Albert to going back outside, and frankly, got selfish and wanted to not have to take down the festive before xmas - and wanted a chance to camp out by the tree with the lights on one night (this will be tonight). So I watered him really well and left him inside.

Our best pals and neighbors house-sat for us, and (totally appropriately) cranked up the heat for the two nights they stayed here from the starvation rations we keep it at, and turned it back down when they left. And the two weeks or so that Albert's been inside is way longer than is suggested. But everything I saw only mentioned the trouble with getting dried out, and I gave him plenty of water, and he seemed springy and healthy.

Apparently the other problem with being inside too long is that a pine tree will start to think it is spring, and break dormancy.

I came home to find Albert covered in beautiful, precious, fluffy sprigs of pale chartreuse all over. He looks impossibly bushy and bright.

How could that be wrong?

Unfortunately, everything I can find now says, "Never let them break dormancy, or they will die when"--mark WILL and WHEN--"you put them outdoors." (Why would you put them outdoors to die if it's inevitable they'd die out there? And how about an "If this happens, you can do x," please?!)

Like a desperate mother, I search for alternative treatments for my doomed and written off and still apparently very happy and healthy (at the moment) baby.

I finally--after pages and pages--found something saying that, if dormancy were to be broken (it was still a cautionary tale), you would have to keep them indoors until chance of frost was over. (Eureka! This, I can do!) ...But that this, too, would cause inevitable death, because surviving an in-home winter and spring is not likely, what with heat and dryness. And that pines tend to need a long wintery rest, which will now have been cut short.

So.

Everybody on the internets is talking doom at my tree.

Everybody on the internets refuses to troubleshoot, and instead, too late, offers me warnings of evil spirits and inevitable death.

So I put it to you that we need to have, on the internets, good juju, and assurances that an Aleppo pine accidentally propelled into an early Spring inside a home that goes really light on the heat and keeps the humidity up and where, in fact, he will get water and be gentled, will not only survive winter but survive Spring, make a peaceful transition back into outdoor life when the temps. aren't so shocking, and, though tired by next winter, will transition into next year's dormancy for a good long rest without much comment beside that. ("Albert will rock the casbah!" in a comment would do very nicely, for instance. Or even just some good wishes generally.)

Or if you have had any experience evading doom or know you some indoorable pine info, please share!

Now, I have spent way too much of my evening online, and need to get to a little gentling-into-sleep-mode and have my (apparently very dangerous) night out by my sweet little Albert. I hope all of y'all have had a wonderful (or at least not-too-stressful) week, whatever you did or did not do with it.

Music and Arts demonstration; student rally

2009-12-12T11:45:00.000-08:00

Bless our students at CSU Stanislaus. The arts know how to put on a fucking protest.

This carol came after about an hour of gorgeous, mournful, and sometimes seasonal music from the Chamber Singers (slated to be cut next year) and the Wind Ensemble (slated to be cut next year). Wore all black. Marching in and out, and in between songs, they were silent.

Chris said: "They're holding their own wake."

There is hardly a more beautiful sound in the world than this ensemble singing, and next year, if our cuts roll on, it won't be.

Definitely encourage you to listen/watch. Earlier on in their performance, lyrics included "Fare thee well, my own true love..." and "I am tired, I am weak, I am worn... Take my hand... lead me home," and other sounds of loss and homesickness - music is these students' lives, this school and these programs are their home. I wept like a baby.

Less heart-breaking and amazingly optimistic, here, is Chris (the eternal pessimist). The day before the arts demonstration, there was a huge walkout, rally, and march (couple hundred students), most of the speakers for which are posted online, too. So if you want to see my hot honey being a rabble-rouser, you can here, starting at 3:56. (He is also wearing the first thing I ever knit, that rainbowy scarf.)

(At 6:54, you he's moved just off screen, but you can see three of his students running through to blindside group hug him, which made my day. <3)

...And I'm replying to more innocuous email.

2009-12-02T17:28:00.000-08:00

I just received an email from the Office of Alumni Affairs & Annual Giving, asking me to give them money.

The email begins this way:

Your gifts to the CSU Stanislaus Stan Fund directly benefit students in many ways:
1. By recruiting highly qualified faculty who excel as scholars and teachers and work closely with students in the context of a caring community...
(emphasis in original text)

...

...

...So I wrote back.

I appreciate the necessity of giving. I am afraid I cannot give right now, as my husband is one of these highly qualified faculty, and is being eliminated for the next year--along with all other lecturers at Stanislaus and very likely some of our tenure-track faculty--so we cannot really spare any money at all, right now.

By the way: suggesting any money I gave could in any way go toward RECRUITING faculty any year soon, when the only movement in faculty is going to be outward, is disingenuous, if not an outright lie, and I would suggest you reword in future.

Thank you,
(name)
(major/grad date)

Also in the process of editing my earlier screed for mailing to my state reps, the board of trustees, and the chancellor. (Editing to add context, and, um, specific recommendations and information re: our campus president.) I'll post it (behind a cut, I suppose) when I have it in order and have sent it. I may look into sending a cleaned up version of the original to papers or... something?

UPDATE: I was sent a very nice note back in response by the head of that office, which was much appreciated. I know it's really hard for the staff in these offices, right now, too, and they're doing the best they can to try to raise money for CSUS in hard times - it was good to hear back.

NaNo est finis!

2009-11-30T14:54:00.001-08:00

Okay, so not only did I finish 50k within the month, but...

I finished the 50k by last night, with more than 24 hours to spare.

AND, I finished the novel itself today, with some 9 and a quarter hours to go (last year's was not finished until an hour before the deadline for the free copy in June or July or whenever). Maybe this one will be edited in time for the free copy to be a second draft, instead of a first! CRAZY.

Anyway. Love to you all - hope you're all well. I'd like to drop into a little mini coma, now, but instead I have to eat and go to choir to prep for concert Friday/Saturday (after lots of rehearsal this week). Wish us luck!

2009-11-26T11:04:00.001-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! May your day be full of joy and love and delight!

I know it can be hard, but chin up, right?

So much love to you all. <3

Plan for the day:

2009-11-23T08:24:00.001-08:00

Morning:

√ *Spend (waste) NO MORE than 10 minutes doing this

√ *Spend (waste) NO MORE than 10 minutes crafting a reply to the vapid, slandering, chock-full-of-utter-bullshit replies left on the story about Stanislaus faculty OVERWHELMINGLY voting no-confidence in Pres. Shirvani, so my brain can rest and let the thing alone. (EDIT: DONE! 1k characters is not much. o.O My mini-essay is now 2 comments and so much leftover. Pasted what it *would* have looked like, below.)

__*Do my work inbox

__*Sort and start ONE load of laundry.

__*Write an absurd amount on my NaNo, in preparation for Thanksgiving hiatus - lets arbitrarily set a goal at 6k, so I don't go, "Oh, 2500, good enough" if I get there. Write as much as possible by the time Chris gets home!

Afternoon:

__*Eat, snuggle, do maybe one more load o' wash

Evening:

__*Choir (two weeks until concert, aaieeee!)

Back home:

__*Collapse

Text of original modbee response:

Case in point: honestfaculty/truefaculty/retiredfaculty is behaving in exactly the way Shirvani does when a legitimate, valid process does not go his way: attempt to subvert it illegitimately.

When the results are so solid, there is no avenue left but simple, outright lying about the process.

Shirvani and his have relied heavily on the concept that angry and concerned faculty are simply a vocal minority on the campus, going so far as to draw up what look a lot like hit lists (cross referencing people who are in both governance and union leadership and put themselves out to take the brunt of his disdain) and trying to subvert the legitimacy of faculty, but this vote clearly proves the rest of the faculty are not behind him. 90.9% of the 88% who voted voted no confidence, and that cannot, in any way, be spun in his favor. Even if every non-voter and non-valid balloter would have come out and voted 'confidence,' 'confidence' votes would have been outnumbered by 'no confidence' votes by four times. How's that for a number? In a country where only about half of eligible voters turn out even for major elections, this is a stunning show of democracy.

So when the question of faculty support can no longer be effectively questioned, now some find the need to lie.

So here is the process:

Votes were counted in full view of reporters. Ballots are NOT open; they are NOT identifiable in any way, and they are individually sealed inside of envelopes which are ALSO not identifiable in any way. The only mark a person has to give of their identity is on a second envelope, just to prove that they are the ones turning in an envelope with a ballot inside (equivalent to giving your name at a polling place and being marked off), and as soon as they are marked off, that envelope is discarded, leaving only unmarked envelopes with private ballots inside, and no way to tell who made which vote. (We can probably guess that some of the 23 "confidence" votes included Shirvani and some of the other academic administrators who were eligible to vote, but even that can't be confirmed.)

They even made the wise decision to not include ANY potentially biasing literature with the ballot, or any of the myriad reasons one might have voted "no confidence" on the president--for instance, the ways in which he tries daily to subvert campus governance (i.e. democracy), to dismantle any protections faculty have in place for the well being of the campus, its students, and programs (including Shirvani recently creating out of thin air a policy for "elimination of programs due to budget exigency," because the "program discontinuation" policy in place would have forced him to make sure students got graduated out of their programs before they were pulled out from under them).

We have honest faculty and an honest process; I'm ashamed to see so much blatant disdain from our community.

A break in NaNo hiatus, because I haven't had the heart to write anything else but this, today.

2009-11-04T20:15:00.000-08:00

How dare they?
A reflection on the likelihood we will have to leave our home after this year, if we want to eat.

How dare they?

This administration does not care about California. They do not care about the CSU, and they do not care about this school. This is a stepping stone, from the lower positions they held before to the higher positions or more prestigious universities they hope to join soon. Administrations come and go in three or four or five years; the faculty, the staff, the community, we are the ones who stay for ten, twenty, thirty years, as long as we are able, as long as we are allowed.

I am a third generation Californian, on both sides. My great grand-parents came from Ontario, Pennsylvania, Oklahoma, Beruit, many places far and wide, and set down roots deep in this promise land, and two of my grandparents were born here, and all of their children, and all of their children, and even most of theirs, after them. I'm the first on my mother's side to even leave spitting distance of the counties my grandmothers were born in before me, since they got here. I was born in this state, raised here, and wish to die here, when it comes to it. This is an amazing and precious place, a resource and a garden, fierce and beautiful.

The CSU is a treasure, too, that belongs to us, here, in California--a proud and lovely creation of our proud and lovely state, to be defended at all costs. Myself and my cousins, my mother and my aunts who were first generation college students, come down from farmers and sailors and soldiers who valued the educations they didn't get, and strove to learn, and impressed upon us all the value of learning, of schooling, we are all products of the CSU when we couldn't have afforded anything else and couldn't have hoped for anything as wonderful.

How dare they push me out of my home? How dare they push my family out of the CSU? We, who had California and the CSU in our blood and our bones before we could read, and who know in our blood and our bones what a treasure we have?

And more important than blood ties are the ties of choosing. My partner adopted California and the CSU, and now has come to love them, now that he has been here 11 years--twice as long as the President of the university, and well over ten times as long as the interim Provost, and three times as long as the Provost before him. Those who have settled here--have meant to make their lives, here--have learned the best of it, have learned the pride and wonder, have taken it up as surely as those of us who knew it all along. And those of us with California in our veins and in the sweet earth of our flesh who have chosen to stay, have learned such awe-filled love, cannot be uprooted. If my body goes, the best of me is still here, longing for the paradise that is this place.

We want to stay. We want to be let to cherish this state, this system, to feed it and better it and make it stronger, ever stronger, ever safer from assaults from the short-sighted and far-reaching. We want to guard it and let it bloom ever brighter.

How dare they push us out, these come-latelies and leave-soons? How dare they take that wicked sword and cleave us from our homes, maim and dismember our universities as if they were nothing more than paper accounts and spools of ugly numbers? How dare they attempt to destroy what has taken us so many generations and so many hearts and so many commitments to build, as if it was theirs to crush? How dare they not lay down their bodies and their swords and their money to defend this?

How dare they?

When they take the CSU--when they cut away the teachers, the programs, the connections we cling to--and force us out, cast us to the wind, tetherless, they destroy more than a tradition, more than some quaint way of doing things, outdated or perverse. They destroy wonders. They destroy monuments and lives and blood oaths and sacred connections to a precious thing far grander than they. When we find a new place to live and work, I will still be homeless, because I will have been cut from my home, the home of my blood and the home of my choosing, the home where my heart and my head and my body have found perfect place, my home of ages. And when they are gone, tired of their broken toy, eager to find new systems to "restructure" and "improve," their damage will lay bloody and mangled and glaring behind them in the sun, for California and her lost, scattered children, blood and adopted alike, to mourn.

How dare they?

So freaking domestic. Also: a fount of trivia.

2009-10-31T00:14:00.001-07:00

In the last couple days: knit a hat for a friend, a cowl for myself. Worked on a shawl I'm making. Started an adorable knitted wig, in a sort of violet/lilac color. Baked snickerdoodles, and improvised a delish' spiced chocolate almond bark.

Carved a pumpkin into an owl as per a VERY cute picture a friend shared (he came out SO CUTE!!) and cut my thumb open pretty well, during the process. Alas. I may try to post a picture of him tomorrow! (But not of my thumb.) Maybe I can get one of him alongside the adorable ratty face pumpkin best friend did (and which included dried spaghetti noodles for whiskers).

Random observation: I think the name my mother called me more than any other throughout my growing up (including my given name) was Pumpkin. (Followed closely or equalled by Sweetpea.)

We did campus things, including big big politics, talks on faculty shared governance, and senate meetings. I did work things (although there are a few I have to do tomorrow morning, because I completely missed them, today).

I picked the NaNo I'm going to write, this year (from amidst WAY too many choices). Mostly (but not entirely) unrelated to that, I did way more random internet research than is strictly reasonable, and often by whim or by popping link to link (and then wondering what path, exactly, I took to go from Rastafarian English to false etymology surrounding Caesarean sections to harime laws among the Romani to laws regulating name changes in Germany).

Before I start wondering too hard, I'm going to go to bed. But it's been a fairly bustling week!

Hope you all have a lovely Halloween! (And any and everything else you may celebrate this time of year!) LOVE!!

At least we know.

2009-10-15T17:07:00.001-07:00

So there are still plans in the works. But as things stand, Chris has no work for Fall. He's out of a job.

Which means, if he finds a new one, we have to go to it. Which would mean I would be out of my beautiful, wonderful, beloved (but definitely-won't-sustain-us) job.

I'd finally put some roots down in this backward fucking little town, and it was growing on me, backward and fucked up though it is. I have a knitting group. I'm in a choir. I love my job. My best friend is staggering distance from my front door. The area's finally nurturing the arts, a little. My garden is growing me flowers.

And the alternative: him NOT finding a job? is a hell of a lot worse than losing/leaving all of those things.

I've been feeling pretty fucking low, I gotta' admit.

It's been a few days, now, since we found out, and the worst of the depression (aided by a bout of gloom, rain, wind, and general storminess and lack of sun and my subsequent plummeting energy and instinct for hibernation) is easing up. I let myself have my beaten, dejected few days, let myself binge on comfort food and neglect work and mope and cry, and the worst of it, at least, seems to be out of my system.

The sun came out, and I went out to sit in it. I did my work, I got shit done, I didn't kidnap leftover chicken and dumplings from Best Friend's fridge (seriously something I was considering). I'm not feeling quite so resentful when people remind me this could work out for the better, in the end - because, of course, it could.

...I had a lot more written below, about prospects and rationalizing about the worst case scenarios. But suffice it to say, I know that whatever happens, we'll roll with it. We'll hit the ground running, because it's what we do. Shitty times have always brought out the optimist in me.

We've got a lot to be grateful for.

Love to you all, and as much joy as you can hold.

Things Is Tough All Over

2009-10-12T11:33:00.000-07:00

"But Chris is secure, right?"

I don't know how many times I've heard this, now. All summer, all through the start of the choir season, people have asked this or something similar; they've asked how we're doing, and I've told them a little about the budget crisis and the terror this inspires and the carnage already wreaked across our campus and how it doesn't make for peace of mind, or else they've heard some about it already and want to know where we fall in it. And then they want to be reassured that Chris is safe. "But he's all right, isn't he? He's pretty protected? Chris is still secure, right?"

"....No," I say, like I'm apologizing. "He's not."

Chris is a lecturer--contingent. Some systems call this "adjunct." Non-tenure-line. Not even probationary. We call it "visiting" on our campus--he's been "visiting" for 11 years, now, full time (some people call lecturers "part timers," too--often tenure-line people teaching significantly fewer courses per year than a full-time lecturer does, but I digress).

In short: no tenure. No expectation of tenure. No way to get tenure.

He does have three year contracts (the grail in the CFA collective bargaining agreements): if they've kept you for six years, when they could have simply failed to rehire you without penalty beforehand, and there are no "serious conduct issues" or records of bad performance, you're automatically rolled over into three year contracts, which have, themselves, a similar expectation of being rolled over. If you're between three year contracts, you've got a lot less protection--if there's just not work, they can essentially give you a contract for no work and no pay, without actually laying you off--but there is still some protection. There's also a layoff order, and an order of preference for work, and a lot of good structure in place to make sure the contract means something, when people start getting bumped off the ranks.

But when you've already gone through the order by department--say, this department--and have dumped absolutely everyone in the first couple of groups? When the only person left with less "preference for work" than Chris has already been reduced to part time (and he was only protected by two tenure-track profs being off on sabbatical, anyway, who are going to be back next year), and there are more cuts to come...?

(As in, apparently, SEVERE cuts to come, despite the absence of a concrete budget for the next year, in what is probably a punitive, tyrannical, never-let-a-good-crisis-go-to-waste move by people with more power than the rest of us?)

Then, no. Chris is not secure.

The BEST we can hope for, at this point, is that he only get reduced to part time, next year. But for all we know, there could be nothing, as soon as Spring. 30% (...for instance) out of 10 tenure-line and 2 and a half lecturers (or 6 tenure-line and 1 and a half lecturers, depending on what we're counting as this department for these purposes) is pretty bad odds, either way, isn't it?

Speak Truth to Bullshit

2009-09-28T13:26:00.001-07:00

....I suppose I should be saving these. I've been getting uppity lately, and it seems worth documenting for a rainy day. It's probably basically shouting in the dark, but I've been doing it just the same: I've been replying to the form emails from my various representatives. Generally only if they say "Keep in touch," or give me a text box. But sometimes if they even just don't say "do-not-reply."

Why?

Well, I've been getting a lot of anathema by email, lately. I think it's mostly because I sent a letter and got sucked into the CA Representatives mailing list, and some reps have identified my location as likely to bear fruit. Unfortunately, I can't unsubscribe from individual assemblypeople without losing the whole list (and I do appreciate some updates), so I just keep getting it.

Perhaps there's something wrong with me that I keep reading it. I know better than to read comments online (mostly), or to seek out blogs. But I suppose this is different: this is something people in a position of some power and with some control over the flow of information are flooding the inboxes of the unsuspecting with.

This is higher stakes, somehow.

Unfortunately, I'm missing my favorite snagged opportunity for uppityism, lately, the one that started me on the Fussbucket jag. I'd gotten a charming push-poll survey from Daryll Issa in Orange County trying to woo me to his version of health care reform, i.e. forbidding public option, resisting socializing any aspect, resisting any regulation, and creating a bigger cookie for programs and corps already causing problems, etc. For context: in my ideal world, we'd have fully socialized single-payer, but I'm willing to start with the co-op option and regulation, I really am.

You know those phone surveys where they phrase a question like, "Do you support allowing [mundane thing x having nothing to do with kittens] bearing in mind it will certainly lead to the torture and murder of 4000 kittens according to [unrelated person y who will lose money if mundane thing x comes to pass]?" And you don't know how to answer, because you support mundane thing x (but not the torture and murder of kittens)? This was one of those. I slogged through and picked the loaded-with-bad-connotations answers responsibly, and cringed a lot.

But then it had a Text Box. Something like, "What would you like to see me (as a representative) do? What are your thoughts on my plan?"

So I told him.

I'm not aggressive; I don't seek out opportunities to piss on people's cornflakes. But being completely irresponsible, propagandizing in difficult times, fear/hate-mongering, and then asking me what I think about it? What if he wants to use the results of that paragon-of-bad-statistics-taking survey to make a point?

I mean, really.

This probably solidified my place on the mailing list, just by responding. But then again, maybe it bumped me off of it. We can but hope.

A day or so after that, I got a helpful letter from California Assemblyman Bill Berryhill (context: I actually actively campaigned for his opponent, doing volunteer work in his office). He was warning me about a dangerous bill that would early-parole non-violent offenders from our prison system (I'm a prison abolitionist at heart, and definitely a rehab-over-punishment enthusiast). He asked for my support, to protect our communities. The letter literally included statistics a non-sociological, nonscientific, non-research body produced guestimating the number of extra crimes, and violent felonies specifically, that would be committed if we released NONVIOLENT OFFENDERS ONLY. Because, clearly, letting out the leukemia patients that got snagged in the raid on the (legal-in-CA) medical marijuana clinic is going to lead to a spike in gun violence. Bear in mind also that our prisons are in violation of every law on the book, most cells occupied at double or triple capacity, etc, and we really cannot sustain them as-is.

....So I replied.

I DO support the early release of non-violent offenders. We're keeping prisoners in a state of appalling overcrowding, which is immoral, illegal, and inhumane. We will soon spend more to imprison people than we do to get them higher education. If we did more with education and rehabilitation and less with misguided punitive measures, the recidivism rate would go down.

Your email is misleading and offensive, and fear-mongering at best. Drop three-strikes and overly harsh terms for victimless crimes. EDUCATE. THAT is how to make our communities safer and reduce prison overcrowding and overspending.

Thank you,
[Name]
[City]

And then I rested a little easier, content with my conscience. I continued on my merry way, dreaming my dreamy-dreams.

Today, I got another (this one my own fault, I suppose), and from the US House of Reps. A week or so ago I'd sent a form letter to my local congressman asking him to support the repeal of DOMA (the "Defense of Marriage Act," which inexplicably made it legal to ignore the full faith and credit clause in the Constitution, despite the fact that nothing else, not even pursuing serial murderers, gets this benefit). As I do.

I expected either no response (since I'm in a hotbed of Marriage=One Man + One Woman activism and Rep. Radanovich is all over that mess), or a form letter thanking me for my input but-we-disagree. I've gotten plenty of those before. Some of the fancier ones have come on paper with lip-service to some key issue, even if the sender and I are diametrically opposed on how to deal with it.

It means that at least some overworked staffer either skimmed the note for my position, or an email reader program did. It got stacked in an unofficial litmus test pile, somewhere. Some sites even let you scroll down a menu with "issue" and "Support/Oppose?" so it knows which form letter to send in response, and presumably to keep a tally.

Rep. Radanovich (or rather, his office) sent Chris and I identical form letters back to our form letters that, I shit you not, told us to "Rest assured, I will continue to work with my colleagues in the 111th Congress to strengthen the family unit and protect marriage in its traditional form." It was a letter comforting us that he, too, wants to protect hetero-only marriage, and telling us how instrumental he's going to be in supporting a re-up of a Protection of Marriage bid, and telling us how dangerous he knows same-sex marriage can be, and what a good idea it was to buck full faith and credit to protect states from having to respect the laws of other states.

...They don't even have the decency to install a good form-reader, or else to come up with the blank "Thank you for your input"? Seriously?

....So I replied:

My husband and I both sent letters encouraging the repeal of DOMA, NOT support of the Marriage Protection Act (and both received identical copies of this letter in response). I didn't expect a personalized letter (my original wasn't, either, and I apologize for that), but I do suggest you at least tailor an alternate form letter for those who've sent you opposition, instead of support. Sending out something that essentially says, "Don't worry, I've got your back by supporting something you find hateful and disingenuous" does not inspire confidence in the constituency. I will not, for instance, "rest assured" after your letter--your so-called Marriage Protection Act would not "strengthen the family unit and protect marriage," as you say, but would instead DENY protections to families and couples. See what I mean?

Please at least work up a blank for disagreement. It doesn't even need to be issue-specific. "Thank you for your input on this important issue" or, "We differ on this important issue, but your input in the democratic process is valued" would be, while less personalized, far less insulting than being told to rest assured you'd do exactly the opposite of what would let me rest assured.

Thank you for considering this.

[Name]
[City]

...I think the (clear) indication that no one will actually read this email released me of my sense of required politeness and sincerity. I don't suppose anyone will be bothered by this letter, then, either.

Assortment of things

2009-09-23T11:14:00.000-07:00

CSN were wonderful! Can't seem to make myself write about it. Don't feel like I need to - but here is what they played:

Helplessly Hoping
Wasted on the Way
Ruby Tuesday (Rolling Stones)
You Can Close Your Eyes (James Taylor)
Girl from the North Country (Bob Dylan)
Midnight Rider (Allman Brothers)
Guinnevere
Dream For Him (David Crosby)
In Your Name (Graham Nash)
Uncle John's Band (Grateful Dead)
Our House
Southern Cross

(break)

Love the One You're With (Stephen Stills)
Marrakesh Express
Rock & Roll Woman (Buffalo Springfield)
Long Time Gone
Just a Song Before I Go
Cathedral
Bluebird Revisited
Wooden Ships

Encore:
For What It's Worth (which is "Stop, Hey, What's that Sound..." if you, like me, can never remember the title) (Buffalo Springfield)
Teach Your Children

Replete with sing-alongs! Fucking awesome tracklist. No Suite Judy Blue Eyes or Almost Cut My Hair, but Crosby had a serious sore throat so I don't expect them to get their really-high-stuff on. AMAZED they did Deja Vu and Cathedral, and they were stunning. They did a lot of covers--they're talking about releasing an album of them, which I would be SO all over. <3

LOVED IT. Had a lovely birthday. Spending too much time online, right now, instead of working. I should at least be writing, if I'm going to shirk my duties. But instead, I'm stealing things from other blogs. Since it was just the day, after all, I followed a link to an astrology-y birthday profiler linked and found my birthday. Which is fairly spookily accurate, as these things can be (in the same way they can be utterly divorced from reality).

Highlights:
The Day of Restless Drive

restless drive to begin all sorts of new projects. Usually they bring the one they are working on to completion but immediately set out on a new one without rest.
capable of handling several projects at the same time
low boredom threshold
outgoing and dynamic types at one time, and solitary and unapproachable at another.
tend to oscillate
Whether in a broad social context or on a personal level, the issues and ideas with which those born on this day are most often involve fairness and equality – in general, matters pertaining to the delegation and exercise of power. In putting forth their arguments, they can be very ironic... Their humor, however, is not for everyone as it is liable to be off-beat, sardonic, and perhaps even macabre.

can display a disturbing lack of stability. Although they may be involved in quite respectable professions, one often gets the idea that the profession itself, or whatever work they do in general, lends the consistency their lives so desperately need
can be at risk when their restless nature brings them into conflict with the powers that be.
think for themselves and will not tolerate others...trying to tell them what to do

warm heart
may find it difficult to open all the way
few friends whom they allow [close]
can often have a greater effect on those around them than they realize, and indeed can register a high degree of shock value
should seek to be more aware of their effect on others

must beware of the depressive effects of isolation
taste in food tends to the exotic, they must be attentive to the effects of spicy, unusual, or rich foods on their body

...And if you take me as already following the must-do's/must-be-aware-of's they give additionally, to a fault? i.e. paranoid about my affect on and reception by others? And trying to exercise absolute patience towards others when they don't behave the way I think would be Better For Them? Seriously, baby.

(It's all about being an equinox/cusp baby, I bet. I am the pendulum.)

Which reminds me: Happy Equinox! (A day late, anyway.) Enjoy autumn! Though I know some of you are already probably under heaps of snow and rain. We're, alternately, still lingering around 100˚F, after only a brief reprieve.

I should really be working. Writing. Something.

But, but, it's Celebrate Bisexuality day, too, apparently! (To echo friend who brought it to my attention: We have a day?!) Via BiNet:

"The day is an opportunity for bisexual, fluid, pansexual and generally queer-identified people and their families, friends and supporters to recognize and celebrate their history, community and culture and the contributions bisexual/pansexual people have made to both the greater LGBT Community as well as to mainstream culture."

Well! Wow! Pan-pride, baby!

Okay, okay, NOW to work. LOVE!

CSN CSN CSN!!

2009-09-19T15:08:00.001-07:00

Crosby, Stills & Nash, tonight, at Ironstone Vineyards!

If you do not already know and love CSN/CSN&Y, well... well, you should.

Maybe you know them from their other projects. David Crosby was a member of the Byrds, Stephen Stills was a member of Manassas, Graham Nash was a member of the Hollies, and Neil Young worked with Crazy Horse, in addition to being Neil Young (he, however, will not be there tonight).

Or you may know them, without knowing you know them. If you ever listen to Oldies/Classic rock stations on the radio, you have probably heard plenty of "Teach Your Children," and "Our House," those sweet and earnest numbers. But maybe you've heard "Carry On/Questions," "Long Time Gone," or Joni Mitchell's "Woodstock" (And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden...). Different stations pick a different one or two and only rotate those, alas.

"Suite Judy Blue Eyes"? (It's getting to the point where I'm no fun anymore...)
Almost Cut My Hair"? (from whence Lettin' my freak-flag fly)
Stephen Stills' "Love the One You're With"? Graham Nash's (I get the) "Urge for Going"? "Chicago"? (We can change the world...) Maybe "Just a Song Before I Go"? "Southern Cross," "Wasted on the Way"...?

Or maybe you know them. Maybe, like me, you love on "Military Madness," "Prison Song," "Deja Vu," "Guinnevere," "Horses Through a Rainstorm," their cover of "Blackbird," Manassas' "Johnny's Garden," "Marrakesh Express," "Helplessly Hoping," "Lady of the Island," "Laughing"...

...CSN(Y) is one of my favorite groups ever. Of all time. I was reared on them, and several years ago a lot of my family and I went to see them, and they played many of the above, and many not of the above. Graham Nash was barefoot. Stephen Stills went from rough voice and hard-to-make-out words in his new songs to perfect, crisp "Southern Cross" like it hadn't been thirty years. David Crosby joked about how it hurt to sing "Almost Cut My Hair," now that they're balding. I'm guessing he'll make the same joke, again. I wonder if they'll still play "Military Madness," and work up a chant in the crowd, like they did in LA. I wonder if we'll get another contact high (outdoor arena, after all). I wonder how they'll have changed, and how they'll have not.

I feel so, so warm and fuzzy.

Oh! I have to go! Enjoy the links if you follow 'em! Well worth the listen!

Finally!

2009-08-31T15:58:00.001-07:00

All right, I'm roasting a duck. Finally. Or rather, attempting to roast a duck, a la Barbara Kafka.

I have never roasted anything, before. I have baked things, and I did braise a brisket in the oven, once. But that's it. That's the extent. I have today performed feats of Preparation I never dreamt I'd manage.

Let's just see if I managed it, oh, say, well. It was an Experience, to say the list.

But but but: this method is magic. It's two-fold, to deal with the Heaping Helpings of Fat, so it involves a poaching with all the sundry extras before the high-heat roasting.

Which means: free duck stock. Before even roasting the duck. I can add back the carcass etc. and double-stock it. (I cannot waste anything, so this is one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. I wish I knew what to do with rendered duck fat, then I wouldn't even have to chuck *that.*)

It smells really good, poaching away. Really ducky, but really good. I am very much looking forward to the roasting part!

Various other life tidbits:
Show is delightful and I love it. Chris is coming Saturday, and Sunday's the last performance ( :(! ). It turns out our two main leads, Bobby and Polly, are pro's, Bobby (Jody Madaras) having done the role some 200+ times, including Euro tours and a lot of choreography. Polly (Natalie Wisdom) is fantastic, too, gorgeous voice and fabulous dancer. I'm really impressed with them both, and with everyone local in our cast.

I've even broken through my formerly often crippling shyness and anxiety and gone to a couple of cast things, formal and informal. This is good for me. It's really strange, too - seeing a little bit of the underbelly of the thing, interpersonal strife. But, I haven't seen any real viciousness, which is comforting. And anyway, I love it; so long as I don't get too wrapped up, it's fascinating. I love people.

More seriously: I am not in the parts of CA that are currently burning. I am well. I *think* my relatives who are in those parts are okay, and so far the friends I have who are in the very thick of it are still in voluntary evac instead of mandatory, and are doing okay. If you are in one of those areas, PLEASE be safe, and I'm thinking of you.

I'm gonna' go back to checking on my duck, and maybe see if my mom's heard anything about my people in Pasadena. LOVE.

Emotional coaster a bit.

2009-08-24T19:25:00.000-07:00

Loved Julie&Julia. Apart from the frustrations that come from true stories (when people sometimes don't behave quite how you want them to), it was delightful. I love the idea. The food was gorgeous. Meryl Streep was unsurprisingly brilliant. It makes me want to cook--it's making me want to have a project. And I want the roast duck recipe. (Though I may actually take Barbara Kafka, queen of roasting all things, over Julia in this matter, if we've got hers. If you ever want to know how to roast anything, and have it come out better than anyone's you've ever had? Go to Kafka.)

I spent the movie in and out of tears, basically unrelatedly. I started crying on the way out of the get-together this morning (had to beat a hasty retreat), and just... it's been drop of a hat, since then. I'd guess at least a dozen times, during the flick? And mostly inappropriately. However, I definitely needed the joy and delight and giggling, and I got a lot of that, too, so that's good.

Now we're listening to some Maurice Chevalier (spent some time with Charles Trenet, earlier), and the utter sweetness promises to help. So does Chris's cooking (if you aren't well aware of this by now, Chris is the Philosopher Chef, Saucier Than Thou - a whiz at French cooking - all cooking, reared on Julia Child's show as a kid, and born on her birthday). I've successfully campaigned for some Pommes de Terre à la Maitre'd'hotel to go along with the lamp loin chops sautéed in butter and dressed in pan sauce, and a Child recipe for green beans. Cap it off with a little cognitive dissonance in the form of a Chilean Cabernet, and I think we'll be able to stave off the demons a little longer.

Show; campus

2009-08-24T15:02:00.001-07:00

It's weird to think of it this way, but I was having a similar reaction to opening night of Crazy For You to the one I had at the end of doing Beethoven's 9th Symphony. Giddy tears and trembling excitement, and a whole lot of greedy, basking love for the audience and its standing ovation. Even if I was down in the pit. I could still crane 'round and see them.

(Btw, they moved us from backstage to down in the pit with the orchestra, mic'd. Which is a great thing. Besides, I like calling myself a "pit singer" more than a "backstage singer." I'm also defaulting to Backup Girl.)

The show was fantastic. It was a blast. A whirling, frantic putting-together, and a beautiful opening night. The theater has more than its fair share of technical difficulties, and some things blew up at the last minute--missing actors, breaking props--but they still got it off in great order. Everybody stepped up and were brilliant. I've said this before, but I've never really been much for dance shows (I can take a lot of Fosse, but chorus lines and follies have never thrilled), but I sat in awe of this group. These girls are professional quality dancers (there's a 15 y.o. teaching dance classes already, and a girl who just got accepted into the Rockettes, for instance), and they're stunning. The choreography and acrobatics were gorgeous, huge, clever, funny, delightful. There's a bit where the girls are bells, if that makes any sense, and a pinwheel, and and and...

I love it. I'm in love. I'm giddy. I even got over enough of my crisis-level shyness to go with my carpool mates to the cast party, and chat and be silly and play games in the pool. The acting was great, the comedy was spot on (even the cheesy parts - and the physical comedy was PERFECT), the music was grand, and, if I do say so myself, the singing went well. Giddy giddy giddy!

...

Well, be fair; I was giddy. The budget crisis has taken its toll. Chris is a union rep for our campus, for contingent lecturers (think: the college faculty equivalent of highly vulnerable wage slaves, with next to no protections, who make up the majority and do most of the work; the adage is that every lecturer is fifteen seconds from utter humiliation). There's been a slash-and-burn going on, and a lot of people are up in the air, and we spent the morning with a handful of lecturers who've been on tenterhooks and probably let go from the university-but-not-necessarily-completely, trying to hash out their rights and contracts and potential outcomes--the culmination of which was a last minute email (received by one of them by iPhone) with the nail in the coffin for all of them. Their small hope was a false one; they have no work, and no rehiring rights, and no continued affiliation with the university or the committees they man, this Fall. Which is to say, in a week and a half. They have no health insurance, they will not be getting a check this month. They're not even at the top of the rehire-if-we-get-some-money list. They have to give back their keys, and clear out their offices. This week.

These are people we know. Our campus, with its 400 faculty, has lost 187--no, wait.. now it's 192, after this morning, isn't it?--of its faculty. Cut in half. Everyone the university could cut without declaring an official layoff, they cut. Fellow lecturer reps from other campuses are working with the union through the summer, even though their teaching jobs are no longer waiting for them in Fall. These are dedicated, passionate teachers, and most of the people we were with today graduated from this campus, went through the very programs they're teaching in, worked most intensively with the most vulnerable students, in the most fundamental classes.

And they're just... gone, now.

(This doesn't even get into the issue of the hundreds of classes cut on our campus alone--classes that were full, and whose students have not even been informed of the cuts and schedule changes and who will most likely get to campus on day one with no idea their classes and teachers are gone and that several of their class days will be furloughed &c, but who have been pulled for an extra $500 for this semester, or $1000 for the year, already. Or all the students who just aren't going to be accepted at all, come Spring and next year, despite state law dictating that this system accept all eligible students. And all the basic remedial classes the bulk of new students will need to complete in their first year to be kept on at the university, but which will be unavailable to them, since they've been cut. And--)

...Sorry for the whiplash. That kinda' where we're at, right now.

I think we're going to spend some of my blood on Julie&Julia (...I can get comp movie tickets, with all the blood donations I've racked up), try to get something a little joyful going.

Love, all.

...Okay, no, really.

2009-08-08T12:13:00.000-07:00

We were just out in Modesto, and saw several posters printed out and stuck on trees, with President Obama's face on them done up to look like the Joker, and "Socialism" written under them.

I just... need to point something out, here.

Among developed nations, we have the highest or nearly highest infant mortality rates, death rates from preventable and treatable illness, and costs per capita to provide health care to our people.

Comparable nations with single-payer health care have much lower infant death rates than we do, far fewer deaths per capita from preventable and treatable illness, and longer life spans, and they spend a hell of a lot less per capita to do it.

This all seems very simple, to me.

The system we have now still covers people who aren't insured privately--but we do it by picking up the pieces when someone who couldn't afford to get preventative care or get a small problem like an infection or a minor wound or a bad flu looked at winds up on death's door (which is to say, in the ER) with a far more expensive problem. What could have cost a few dollars to treat or prevent costs thousands to the revered taxpayers. The prevalence of untreated disease means that it's a lot easier for diseases to spread like wildfire, too--so this isn't just the problem of the person who's sick. This is your problem, too. Yes, there are clinics, but they're overworked, understaffed, underfunded. Yes, there are some safety net programs in place, like Medicare and Medicaid and Medical, but they're increasingly underfunded, and are sloughing otherwise eligible people off of their rolls, ever day. And the ERs and Medicare and clinics are all a lot more expensive per capita to run than a central program with a strong emphasis on prevention would be.

The public option doesn't eliminate private health care, if you've got it and you like it. HMOs and the like already limit your choice of doctors and services, and while they don't run your requested services past a bureaucrat (who incidentally has no profit motive), they DO run your requested services past a mid-level businessman who wants to (1) make the largest profit possible from serving you, and (2) spend the least amount possible on you to do it. This is the nature of having shareholders; their job is not to keep you healthy or happy, their job is to produce profit. Any service they can avoid giving you, they will. The more they can charge to give you the services they do, the better. And the fewest at risk (read: in need) people they can insure...

This is really not limiting our options. It just means that people with nothing but desperation can be healthier, and fewer people die for no reason. Some people running private health care companies may lose a little off of their multi-billion-dollar profit margins. I can live with that.

OH NO OH NO OH YES YES YES YES!!!!

2009-08-07T22:45:00.000-07:00

Story of my life:

I am too afraid to try to do something. Usually something involving an interview, an audition, or otherwise throwing myself out bodily in front of uninterested parties.

Said thing throws itself at me, and allows me (just that once) to bypass some portion of the terror--the decision to consider or try at all, of course, and maybe part of an audition, or an application, or whatever it is, too. Volunteer work, the choir, a gig, the knitting group, an open mic night, my job. Anything I want to do and am afraid to go ask to be a part of.

Well, as of tonight, I'm in a musical. That opens in two weeks.

A friend from the choir emailed about a dozen of us to see if she could snag some backstage singers to fill out the sound of the chorus and dance line, and I appear to be one of three (there are eight Girls/Chorus/Follies we'll be behind - I am not insignificant, here). I'm (most likely) singing the high soprano part. I may be the only person singing the high Bflats in large groups, when the girls who have to actually dance and act and be out on stage are too SRSLYBUSY to knock out those notes, or I'll be one of two. (Or I may not get to do all of them--sadness!--but that's okay, too. But Bflats are yummy.)

I'm kinda' in shock. Went to part of a rehearsal, tonight, going to most of one tomorrow. It rehearses 6 days a week, 6-11pm, though I'm missing a lot of next week. The week after that is dress/tech week. And then there are shows.

OH HOLY SHIT WHAT AM I DOING?!

...There really isn't too much material to learn. I get to keep the score onhand (because who'll care, when I'm backstage?), and it's not too tough. It's a Gershwin thing I've never actually seen or heard of, called Crazy for You, and it seems to be a redux of other stuff of theirs, with a new plot combining them. But it's got a lot of their songs that I do know (which is not many). But I'm not singing in most of those ("Someone to Watch Over Me," "They Can't Take That Away From Me," etc, don't have chorus). But I am singing in "I Got Rhythm." And I think also "Nice Work If You Can Get It." And a handful of things I hadn't heard before today, but that I'm picking up quickly. Hopefully quickly enough.

OH CHRIST OH FUCK OH FUCK WISH ME LUCK. I know you're not supposed to, but I think I don't mind. This is SO COOL.

County fair! County fair!

2009-08-05T00:34:00.001-07:00

Briefy update: went to the county fair, didn't ride any rides or play any games (v. v. expensive!), but pet copious animals, listened to much music. More on the last two:

I have, before, pet the noses of police horses and must have once a goat (because I remember him trying to eat my clothes). There are probably petting zoo memories of my early youth I've just lost, by now. But in my memory, this is the first time I've ever touched a cow. I pet a cow, tonight, and I pet so many wonderful young goats and sheep (and was nibbled on to my heart's content by both), and even a llama and an emu and a piglet.

Still on the lookout for chicken-, goose-, and duck-handling opportunities (we didn't find the petting zoo until it was about to close, and they were all already in bed).

....I haven't had much farm-type experience.

Mind you, I have held/pet cockatoos, cockatiels, conures, macaws, green parrots, African Grays, sparrows, a crow, boas, pythons, corn snakes, bearded dragons, alligator lizards, iguanas, salamanders, toads, frogs, wild field rats, pet rats, mice, hamsters of all descriptions, guinea pigs, chinchillas, rabbits, turtles, tortoises, all kinds of spiders and insects and crawlies generally, butterflies and giant moths and iridescent beetles, sea slugs, skates and rays, muscles, abalone, fish and bottom dwellers, cats, dogs, wolf mutts and half-coyotes. So I'm really not low on animal interactions, just... particularly domestic ones. I have stroked more sea slugs than I can count, but never a chick or a duckling. Maybe we'll have to go back, break down and pay for some rides and pet as many birds as will sit still. <3

Areas with titles like "Meat Goats! No petting" were comparatively quite, quite depressing. The Petting Zoo was a seriously healing experience after that. We couldn't find it until so so late!!

Music: one of Chris's students was playing as part of a band there, One-oh-One Percent, and they were fantastic. Great listening to them, very talented, great and varied repertoire. V. impressed.

Rick Springfield blew my socks off (or would have, if I had been wearing any). For one thing, ain't no way he's 60 on the 23rd, even if he is. He stripped down shirtless, and it was a lovely thing. He was a lovely thing. He played for an hour and a half, and never stopped moving, barely stopped singing, one song right into the next. EVERYTHING was a prop. He flung guitars wildly--literally flinging them in arcs through the air, across the stage--switching out almost every song, for a while. He played "What's Victoria's Secret?" and a lot of things that were familiar to me, but that I didn't really know, or didn't know were his, and he covered Paul McCartney and Wing's "Jet," from Band on the Run. During "Don't Talk to Strangers," he caused many people to talk to strangers, and appealed to anyone he landed on to sing along (micing them embarrassingly, but only teasing them moderately). Was teasing and jovial generally. Fixed on "lady in the pink shirt" early on in the show ("do you even know who the hell I am?"), and returned to tease her frequently (hugged her, cheered her, had her sing, and sang "Marylou" to her, that being her name). Chatted with little kids and got them on stage to dance and sing along ("Don't Talk to Strangers" lasted about 20 minutes, what with falderal). During "Human Touch" he waded probably 30 rows into the audience, and shook every hand and touched and was touched by everyone available. Went from blazing energy of that right into "Jessie's Girl," and was fabulous. After that, introducing the band, they were playing the Beatles' "She's so Heavy," from Abbey Road, and I was highly, highly impressed.

Voice got a little weak in the low, quieter register (he never stopped leaping around; I am 34 years younger and half his activity would have winded me immediately), but he wailed on everything else. Amazing music + voice. It was loud; my ears hurt, and the bass beat very literally felt like a heart beat--I kept getting a reflexive panic that I was getting seriously arrhythmic--but that's all I could say against it. We had a great time.

I want more of all of this music. And I want more critter cuddling, have I mentioned that?

Can I have a pygmy goat, please? Or a sheep? I promise I will pretend I have an agricultural excuse, I will.. Iunno, I'll make yarn, it'll be great. Please? And two chickens?

I know I cry over spilt milk, but...

2009-07-11T20:54:00.001-07:00

...over Burnt Toast? Really?

Burnt Toast is a "domestic TV opera" that ran on the CBC. Hour long, made up of 8 vignettes on love. Comedic vignettes! Silly, even! Using some opera singers and some comic actors dubbed by opera singers. I watched the 8th first (...no, no reason... ::..cough::), but then I went back to the first, which is "Nothing Ever Happens In the Park."

Video of "Nothing Ever Happens In the Park."

It's described as a love hexagon--six people in the park, each in love with someone else, who is in turn in love with someone different. And when they've each been around with a verse (with some often very silly lyrics--the ones from and for the hot dog vendor, for instance - "You don't need ketchup, mustard ... you just need me," "You feed them all. Would you feed me, too?"), they come together in ... in that thing in musicals and opera that I don't know the name for, when all the different, distinct, individual parts of the song previously start intertwining and singing over one another and the themes blend and twist into something grand and lovely..

And then I was just crying.

I mean, unrequited love. Lots. And everyone's looking at someone else, who isn't looking at them, and there's a gorgeous duet part.. And opera, and that thing that always gets me when it happens ("Down Once More" in Phantom of the Opera, "One Day More" in Les Miserables, ooooooooh...),but... seriously, Burnt Toast...?

Happy 5th, My Love

2009-07-05T22:28:00.000-07:00

Chris and I have now been together for a half a decade.

I am stunned and delighted by this fact. (How has it been five years?)

I love you fiercely, mister.

AIEEEEE!

2009-06-25T11:40:00.001-07:00

IT'S BEING RELEASED, IT'S BEING RELEASED, IT'S BEING RELEASED!!!!!!!!!!!!

....'hem.

Some of you may remember my obsessing over the New Wilco Song that we heard at the Bridge School Concert last year. I kept it to a relative minimum here, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. I have hunted for it, tried to figure out when it would be released, what it would be called, etc., ever since. I still sing it, because one listen at the concert (and then 8+ listens when someone got a bootleg online for about a week) meant I had memorized a vast portion of it before it was gone.

But it's finally being released. It's called "I'll Fight." It is fabulous. It has a Beatles-y, almost mod kind of momentum to it, but still this intrinsically Wilco-y character. It has a fantastic sense of... not stop-time, exactly, but of using brief moments of sparing instrumentation to dramatic effect. You can supposedly listen to it on their site, but the Java script doesn't seem to be working (at least for us). However, the lyrics are up online, and clearly a lot of people *have* heard it, and one might possibly be able to find it by dint of file-sharing services. (...We've already pre-ordered the album from their site, so I don't feel bad about my impatience. I'm getting to LISTEN TO THIS SONG.)

That something so dark and grisly can forcibly make me dance/sway should speak volumes. I want the song to not end, when it ends. I want it to roll on and on. I want to be swallowed up in this song.

....I'm not saying necessarily anyone else will feel this way about it? And maybe the context of the slightly rawer, rougher performance, live, in a huge mob of people is giving this more power over me than it might otherwise have? But... I think I'm okay with that.

Mainstream cheesecake photos letting you down?

2009-05-22T11:37:00.000-07:00

I found myself debating on whether or not to share. But everybody deserves access to some good Pretty, and who am I to not aid in the cause?

I love it all. I do. I appreciate smut, porn, erotica, pinups, art nudes, Suggestive Photography, etc... No matter how commercial or how indy, how cliched or trashy or high brow... You name it, I like it. I love bodies. I love people enjoying their bodies. That's it. And I think it takes all kinds.

Unfortunately, "all kinds" is hard to find. Especially where men are concerned.*

By happy accident, today, however, I came across a site with a section called Stripsters--which is, in fact, hipsters stripped or stripping. They inevitably wind up in their underwear, or nude but carefully obscured, so I suppose this is almost SFW, but probably not quite, so pursue at your own risk.

In any case, these are decidedly untrashy but decidedly sexy art photos, mostly of men--slender, often scruffy, tattooed, pierced, or devestatingly arty men--and they're getting their sexy on. (There are a few gals, too, but the boys are the focus, here.) So if you're like me and think, say, Alan Cumming trumps George Clooney any day, enjoy!

Stripsters.

*Now, I hear ya'. You're saying, "But, Lauren! As far as mainstream porn is concerned, the array of 'acceptable' types for men is much larger than that for women, to begin with!" and I agree. But men like these--certainly not the slender shaggy ones, the pretty-but-unclean ones--need not apply, in any case. And I haven't found anything catering to those who want to see these men, until now.

Whereas, when looking for women with tattoos, piercings, a variety of body types, technicolor hair, goth or punk or burlesque or pinup sensibilities... one need only look as far as Suicide Girls. (Don't let the name turn you off; there is no suicide involved, I promise.) While they also definitely fall into the category of art nudes, they are often quite nude, and so, NSFW.

SG is not free, which makes me a little sad, but they've got a big, fantastic public gallery to check out, so all hope is not lost.

SG Gallery.

So go forth, my sisters and brothers, and love you on some pretty.

o/` Somewhere, under the sun...o/`

2009-05-20T22:46:00.000-07:00

I was glancing over previous entries, so I thought I should give a couple updates:

First of all, they dedicated our concerts to Bob Danziger. It was lovely, though it made it a little hard to sing the first movement of the Gloria. Still, it was very nice.

My mood has been strange and fussy, for reasons I can't accurately identify. Might be the concert post-partem stress, or the billow of anxiety whiplash after being crammed in so tight with so many people, and trying to socialize afterwards. Or the stress of the shake-up of healthier habits when the crunch came.

Healthier habits I've been building up, like eating better, drinking water, getting enough exercise, getting sun. (SUN I LOVE YOU WARM SUN BRIGHT LOVE--)

...Do you ever forget to drink any water for too long, and you don't really realize you're thirsty, but as soon as you happen to take a sip of water, you can't stop? Because your body has realized its desperation and makes you guzzle, even if that doesn't work as well a taking it a sip at a time?

That's me with the Sun. (With water, too, incidentally, but that's a different problem.) I've got at least some degree of Vitamin D deficiency, and sunshine is the best way to fix that (because we're plants, apparently), and it's good for the serotonin levels, the keratosis pilaris, etc, so I've been trying to get more, recently, but I'd slipped more often, lately, and it's been too hot or too cold or not enough time or whathaveyou. But today it was so nice, and Chris reminded me at just the right time, so rather than trying to shove my clothing away from the sunless bits, I found an old sparse hand-me-down bikini that I managed to fit into again (well, "fit" is probably a strong word), and laid out in the sun, on a towel and turning at regular intervals and everything. (Redheads don't tan. Redheads don't sunbathe. So this is very unusual behavior.)

And I don't think I'd realized quite what a sun worshipper I am.

I stayed out there until I thought I'd gotten a safe and easy twenty minutes or so. (I've always been pale and burned like a leaf, but it's been getting better as I've allowed a little more and little more sun. Toughening up just bit by bit!) But then when I came back inside, I couldn't settle down. I got antsy. I kept looking out the backdoor at the sun, kept looking at my bikini'd body and my towel, the book I was reading... I put on a little sunscreen on places I thought were pinker than others, got my laptop and some water, and went back out, though I stayed in the shade. I just wanted to be out there. ...But then I crept back into the sun, just bits of me.

And when I thought my laptop would get too hot, I went back inside.

...And put down my laptop, put on some more sunscreen and went back out, again.

This happened twice more, late into the afternoon. When we had to close the sliding door and blinds to keep the heat out of the kitchen, I got between them and leaned into the hot glass. I couldn't make myself get dressed until the last minute, until I had to get it together and go to my knitting group.

I've paid for it, a little. It never seems to occur to me that color shows after more time than I realize, and though I may look fine, or even still dead pale, a while after I've sunned, I may show up burnt, later. Places that were blinding white, that I made sure didn't get screened, that I made sure got sunshine, *because* they were so pale, are now a little angry at this sudden change, especially around the edges. I have odd, awkward patches of bright red, luckily ones which will normally be covered by clothes. But I finally evened out the more visible parts of me, a bit. I've got color beyond my usual pointilism tan (where the freckles crowd together and make you look browner, if you squint from a long way away?), so we'll see if a redhead can't get a little bit of a tan, after all. And I'm taking care of the redder bits, and I've definitely gotten my D for the day. The annoying but harmless little bumps I've had on my arms since I was 12 and on my legs for several years are virtually gone, even if they're just on vacation. My skin feels good, my head feels better, my body feels vital and alive.

...But I can't stop thinking about going out and doing it again tomorrow. Oh, I'll cover up the burns, and I'll sunscreen the pink areas, I may even tell myself to be good, but I know me. It'll start as "Oh, I should water those," and turn into a as-close-as-I-can-get-to-naked sunbath. The craving's on me, and I'm nothing against a craving. And I'll take a Sun craving over a junk foody craving, anyday.

I feel desperate for it, right now, in the dark.

Sunlight, I promise I'll meet you in the morning, and we'll roll around in the grass, some more. I don't even care if anyone catches us!

The concerts!

2009-05-18T11:52:00.001-07:00

Friday night, we kinda' crapped up the Poulenc. There's no denying it. It didn't turn up in the review, thank goodness, but we knew. We sopranos were flat, flat, flat. The cardinal rule of "only sing as soft as you can sing WELL" had been forgotten.

So Daniel reminded us. A lot. But in a helpfully "You can totally do this" kind of way.

So on Saturday night, we totally did. We nailed it. Daniel told us how much he loved us, when we were leaving the stage for intermission. It was creepy and beautiful and I adored it.

On Friday night, the Beethoven was excellent--even the 16 measures of forte high A's after several measures of more A's and G's, even the fast bits with the frickin' high B's. You could hear AND UNDERSTAND our German. We were great. The bass soloist loved on us to Daniel, as did the occasionally adversarial brass section.

But on Saturday night, we blew the doors off the place. When we burst in on our first big "Freude schöner götterfunken," my mother up in the balcony said we drowned out the orchestra.

This is the same symphony orchestra they usually have to mike us over, so that we're not drowned out by the brass alone. But this time, instead of 80 of us, there were 180 of us.

Blew the doors off.

I kept talking to people about how exciting it was to get to do this, how much I was looking forward to it, to this opportunity--how many times do you get to be in a group of 180 wailing on "Ode to Joy"? How often do you get to be part of something so big? And Friday night, I'd been enthusiastic, but measured. I almost felt like I was missing something in the experience, like I wasn't letting myself commit to the point of breaking.

Saturday, I put everything into that huge burst, and was gasping by the time we had a break in singing. My voice started to go towards the end, but I managed to keep it alive through the many more measures of (guess!) high A's. I felt possessed. I felt filled past my seams with it. We were enormous and beautiful. And after the last götterfunkens with the huge orchestra attack, it was all I could do to keep from bawling. On Friday night, people got up for an ovation. On Saturday night, they shot up as one.

I cried all the way out to the car. I was so happy, so ecstatic, and all the stress of it broke open to let go and I cried and cried. Strangers stopped passing chorus members to tell us how wonderful we were. The soloists stopped in the hall to shake our hands--and the soloists were amaaaaazing. The orchestra was amaaaaaazing. Everything was brilliant. The narcissist in me went, despite the love, fairly unsated (I was going to meet Chris/Mom/Zach in the lobby, but they came out and caught me outside, and carried me off). I realized when we were gone that I was mad at them for taking me away from the basking. I wanted to linger and be surrounded by people who were full of that music, who loved us for it. I wanted to find the other people I knew who I'd heard would be there, and let them tell me how good we were. I wanted to make Chris turn the car around.

I'm suffering post-partum. I don't get to have this back, again. But it's something I get to always have, too.

But actually holding that in my arms, living in that throng... I feel so disconnected to be out of it. That part of it I don't get to have, anymore.

Until next time.

(Please, please, please. Again, and again, and once more...)

VIDEO!

2009-05-18T00:23:00.001-07:00

VIDEO of us rehearsing!!!

This turned up on the Modesto Bee site, and it's got pieces of one of our last rehearsals before the concert, and interviews with our lovely Maestro and our wonderful Soprano soloist. I'm not sure you can see me in there, because I haven't watched it all yet, but you can see and hear us some! Enjoy!! WOO!

EDIT:

Aha, I apparently do exist!:

Final rehearsal, concerts...

2009-05-14T23:59:00.001-07:00

...are tomorrow afternoon, tomorrow night, and Saturday night, respectively. My mama and brother are coming up to hear me sing (WOO!) and stay the night Saturday. I am going to be dead dog beat by Sunday morning. I was fine, and now I'm terrified. I'm not sure if I'm too terrified or not terrified enough. (We totally crapped up the Poulenc, but hopefully the old adage of "bad dress rehearsal = good concert" holds out. However, we rocked the Beethoven. Yikes...)

Must remember:
- to actually follow the score for the Poulenc, this time.
- the last minute phrasing changes for the Poulenc, the last minute (literally--as we were leaving tonight) Oops-there's-a-wrong-note-in-your-score-fix-it change for Beethoven.
- to bring food and dress to cram in tomorrow between rehearsal (4-6:30) and call (7:00).
- to smile
- to enjoy myself
- to not get lazy
- to not freak out, surrounded by a freefloating cloud of anxiety
- to sleep, now, rather than sit up writing in blogger instead

Wish me luck! Think happy thoughts!

If Music Be the Food of Love...

2009-05-07T18:38:00.001-07:00

Last night we were at the faculty recognition awards. We wound up sitting near some music faculty, and talking about the Music for the Elementary School Teacher class, which, like all classes in the Music department, require attending live music performances. We talked about how sometimes it's the first time students have ever even seen live music--the woman I was talking to (who'd have to be leaving to go teach that class) recalled a response written by a student that mentioned seeing a "really big red clarinet."

I laughed and clapped, because I knew exactly what she was meant: "Oh! Bob Danziger's bassoon!" I almost said, but didn't, for some reason. It got a little busy, a little loud, and it slipped my mind. Maybe I thought it would sound a little familiar, or like I was trying to sound involved, if I identified a faculty member by a poor description of their instrument. I don't really know.

But I loved Dr. Danziger, and his bassoon. I took Music of World Cultures from him in my very first semester at Stanislaus, and had the most wonderful experience--he was so warm and dynamic, and introduced us all to so much fantastic music. He was free with encouragement, friendly, talented--a joy to be around, always. I got lucky enough to have him for my advisor for the Music concentration in my degree, and to just get to see him around campus, sometimes. I really only had maybe two classes from him, but he stands out as one of my favorite teachers on the campus, one I always think of when I remember, despite all its problems, how great this campus really can be. It has had people like him there.

He told us, during class, about this bassoon (bassoon being his instrument of choice). He'd had it commissioned in Germany five years earlier, and it was going to be done any day--he was going to have to fly to Germany to collect it and bring it home. The next semester, waiting for a concert to begin, I saw the most beautiful red bassoon on the stage, and I knew that was it--that he'd gotten his beautiful new baby and loved it, and that he'd be playing it for us that night.

Any time I've seen a stage with a red bassoon, since, I've felt a little better, because I knew I'd be seeing him play--I've never seen another bassoon that really looked like it. And it was such a joy to be around him, even just to hear him. He played with the school ensembles, and we still go see those, and with the Modesto Symphony Orchestra, so any nerves I'd have during a concert, I could just look around the stage and find the red bassoon--and know a sweet, warm, wonderful person would be nearby, soon, playing with us. It calmed me down and made me happy.

I wish I could find a more recent picture of him--one taken with the red one.

I just found out this afternoon that he died Monday night. Here is is lovely obituary.

It just occurred to me, writing this, that in a week and a half, when we sing Poulenc's Gloria, and Beethoven's 9th Symphony (Ode to Joy), he isn't going to be there with us. His bassoon isn't going to be on the stage.

But the obit, and the letter Chris got from the school president, both closed with this:

"If Music be the food of love, play on."

So I'm going to go back to crying, now, but then I'm going to go back to singing, too. He will be very, very, very missed. He was loved very much.

EDIT to add: I'd been blanking on the other class I took with him. Not what was in it--I had a couple vivid memories--but what it actually was. I remembered, after looking through the class schedule*: it was Music for the Elementary School Teacher. (The woman I'd been talking to had been surprised when I said I took that class from M., because that was the version for music majors--Music in Elementary Schools. I'd forgotten I'd actually taken both, trying to reach my units. It was just his night to be evoked, I guess.)

He'd advised that could be okay to take both--I'd taken his first. He also told me I should consolidate my student loans as soon as I graduated (I forgot and didn't, but I keep starting to), and that when I was in his classes, he'd used my scantron tests as the key to grade the others, because I always aced them (remember how I said he was encouraging?). He also said I should learn the bassoon. :) He'd taught us recorder in the Music for the Elementary (etc) class, and I'd immediately picked it up, along with the alto recorder, and he knew I played flute, a little clarinet, etc... And not that I'd ever say this to an aficionado of one woodwind or another, but they're all essentially the same instrument. Maybe he thought I'd pick it up quickly. ...I'd kind of like to. Or the oboe. I've never tried a double-reed wind. I wished he could teach me.

My brain keeps playing tricks on me: for about twenty minutes, I kept thinking we should try to get to a couple more concerts on campus, soon, before we lost the chance to see him again. S'not fair.

I couldn't think of what music to put on--just knew I needed music. I'm listening to ABBA's "Thank You For the Music," now.

Thank you for the music,
the songs I'm singing
Thanks for all the joy they're bringing
Who can live without it?
I ask in all honesty,
What would life be?
Without a song or a dance, what are we?
So I say thank you for the music,
for giving it to me.

...He taught us Jewish songs and dances he had learned living in Israel. I still remember--and can sing--the refrain to Simkhes Toyre. He taught us about early music--which I did my project on, for Music of World Cultures. He used "Down in the jungle, living in a tent, best part is: no rent" as part of teaching us the ta/ti ti/tiri tiri/timri ta method of rhythm. He taught us about (and had us use) Orff instruments. I had never gotten to have music ed, in school--other people remember these things from being a kid, but they were all new to me, and it was like learning all of these things new. It was like getting to be a kid, and just revel in music, again.

Good Day, Sunshine!

2009-05-06T10:52:00.000-07:00

I actually feel good--really good--for the first time in a long time. I actually managed to be physically and mentally active, get exercise AND work done, AND an errand attempted (but no score), all before 10, which has been generally unheard of, for me. It's a gorgeous morning (and yes, I have been singing, humming, and whistling "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning" all morning), because it's bright blue and utterly temperate and the SUN IS OUT AGAIN FINALLY OH GOD I'VE MISSED YOU SUN LOVE ME SUN WARM ME WARM BRIGHT LOVE JOY SUN LOVE

....May need the sunshine a bit more than I had previously realized.

AND--AND!--we have fantastic news out of two more on the Eastern seaboard. When I woke up this morning, it was all up in the air--will this get veto'd, will it pass other votes, etc--but at least one appears to be confirmed:

MAINE has legalized same-sex marriage!

And DC's City Council has voted to recognize same-sex marriage--but this is up to the legislature to approve. (Can we get them a little statehood, yet, please?) A bill has also been passed in New Hampshire, but awaits a signing or veto from their governor.

See, California? New England hasn't fallen into the ocean. It's really OK.

Now, I'm going to modify my sourdough blueberry muffin plan (to account for my failure to attain muffin cups) and then go into my back yard to get some more SUN and maybe try to plant some more seeds.

EDIT: Did I mention there are actually lots of cheerful chirping birdies singing, too? It's crazy fantastic.

Reno recap:

2009-05-03T17:26:00.001-07:00

Background: We are not gamblers, and we are not really vacation takers; our friends had an extra free room voucher, and there was free parking, free drinks when you gamble, and gorgeous heated pools and jacuzzis (also free to guests). How could we say no?? The bathroom in our room alone was as big as my bedroom, and there was much gorgeousness to be experienced. So, while was lost a grand total of $29.09 on various bettings, there is no way on earth we would have been able to obtain even the drinks--even a handful of our drinks--in any similar place for that much, let alone a gorgeous room, more drinks than was probably advisable, disco dancing, and fireside and ocean themed bars and glass flowery chandeliers. Plus, we got to take a little road trip, see our friends, people watch, and look at All The Sparkly Lights. I even got to swim for a little while, something for which I have been exceedingly desperate for many, many, many, many months. Many. Srsly.

Played: penny slots, $5 blackjack and roulette. One $0.25 slot that still had a crank arm.

Watched: Penguins vs. Capitals, the Kentucky Derby (cried), Hatton vs. Pacquiao (cried), and the last 20 minutes of the stock car race.

Dodged: hundreds of strangely vaguely menacing but supposedly good-time-guy freemasons moving en masse, a very sweet flirt, and my own dog impulse to feel up all the cocktail waitresses.

Trip: Success!

Observations:
I am both more and less sensitive to smoke than I realized.
I enjoy random winning way too much, and am easily delighted by flashing screens and sound effects.
I am a kinda' sore loser, when there's not a human I'm losing to. I am generally not at all sore when there are humans involved.
I want to play more cards.
Boxing is essentially tragic and really probably not for me.
Craps is fun to watch.
Gamblers (in Reno, this weekend, at least) are not as visibly superstitious as I would have guessed.
Probability is still just as fun as when I was taking AP Stats in high school, and I am way too happy to get my geek on about it.
I compulsively count changes in amounts of money and keep running tallies. I do not count cards, except for in pinochle.
I still don't get Nascar.
Underdog stories--even if the underdogs are actually horses--make me absurdly happy.
Anything shiny, neon, or sparkly makes me very happy--I am, essentially, a crow.
Going without seeing the sunshine for 3 days wreaks havoc on my brain chemistry, and makes me very unhappy.
It is hard to be menacing in something as goofy as a jester hat, but if you manage it, you graduate up to Really Scary.
Cow bell is always a good move in music, and usually sexy. I need a cow bell.
You will not get carded until you ask for a Shirley Temple.
Even if they are flighty carders, casino cocktail servers are freaking hot.

Now, my nose and eyes are settling down, the smoke is almost out of my laundry, and my kitties are approaching almost-recovered-from-petting-deficiency. I think I'm going let my brain melt a little. LOVE.

o/`Ju-ust to watch him die... o/`

2009-05-01T10:13:00.001-07:00

Okay, so I'M GOING TO RENO. But I'm a little worried about it, because you know what happened the last time...

(Video. Or, lyrics, if you prefer.)

(Oh, you knew that was coming. Right? ....Right..?)

...I've been fairly insufferable, lately, frankly. Chris and I learned to play/sing this, respectively, and we do it pretty much every night, but that doesn't stop me from singing it most days, lately, too. Or making the "You remember what happened the last time I was in Reno..." joke. Over. And. Over.

This is not unusual for me, generally speaking. For one, I am the human jukebox, and if there's an applicable song line (or movie quote), I produce it, with no ability to stop myself. It's my cryptonite--that and female trios. No resistance. (When we were in New York, imagine how often I sang "On Broadway," "59th Street Bridge Song," "Thank You Lord For Sending Me the F-Train"... even "Take the A-Train," people. I am lucky no one killed me.) And I enable myself over much - I make themed mixes, so I have plenty ammunition for many topics. I made a "Talking about the Weather" mix, a Garden mix, an epic traveling mix, and a sugar and sweets mix; we've been working on a jailbait mix, a card playing mix (see below), and (tada!) a prison mix--and most of those, we're learning to sing and play. Hence the heavy emphasis on "Folsom Prison Blues" in our nightly guitar-ing-and-singing.

But I'm also especially vulnerable to that one, it seems; Chris has been brushing up on his fingerpicking, and there's an incredibly insidious, catchy picking pattern he's worked up for "Folsom." I can hear it from across the house, from downstairs, from out in the yard, and I start singing. I can be mid sentence in a conversation. I can have food in my mouth. It doesn't matter; the pattern says "It's time to jump in," and I jump in. It's like double-dutch (do you remember playing double-dutch?); I hear the rhythm and start rocking foot to foot until I can hop in, and then I can't stop for anything. I sometimes think Chris thinks this is funny.

Anyway! This all comes up because of this:

A little while ago, I was downloading "Poker Face," since I saw it mentioned today! ::blows kisses:: And I've been vaguely curious about this Lady Gaga person, anyway (since burlesque is for the win). So, I played it and enjoyed it, and started thinking about that cards playing mix we've been talking about making, and thinking, "Hey, that should go on it!" (even though we don't play poker--most card songs are poker songs, and we've accepted that). I thought, "Maybe I should put together that mix--what with us going to a place of card-playing and gamling. It would be useful on the road." Then the song ended, and I was a little late getting to my iTunes to stop it going on to whatever was next (it's always on random).

And it decided to play me "Folsom Prison Blues" (the version what I have linked above).

IT IS FATE. Cards/gambling mix ahoy!

ETA: So far, Lady Gaga's "Poker Face," Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler," Garth Brooks' "Two of a Kind, Workin' on a Full House," AC/DC's "She's Got the Jack," Motorhead's "The Ace of Spades," Bob Dylan's "Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts" (LOVE!), Bob Seger's "Still the Same"... the Eagles' "Desperado" has a Queen of Diamonds/Hearts verse, so that counts... Possibly "Viva Las Vegas" and "Folsom Prison Blues" just for the.. y'know.. Vegas and Reno references...

...Um. Why are so many of the cards songs gooey modern country and hair metal/arena rock? Any other suggestions, guys?

ETA afterwards: Found a handy list, with a lot I know and love and had completely forgotten. Added Steely Dan's "Deacon Blues," Steve Miller Band's "The Joker," "House of the Rising Sun" (this one was Joan Baez), The Pogues' "Bottle of Smoke," ABBA's "The Winner Takes It All," and (duh!) "Luck Be a Lady Tonight" -- Marlon Brando's version from the movie (my favorite--sorry, Frank). And somehow forgot to add (even though I had it) Suzanne Vega's "No Cheap Thrill."

After the Cuts

2009-04-08T15:41:00.000-07:00

I give up. They're in bathroom stalls on campus and being posted on facebook by people I do not know, but whom I now de facto like (Save Our Classes - CSU Stanislaus--good job, guys!) I should at least be able to share them with you. Though whether they mean much out of context, I couldn't say. So, this is a set of political cartoons called "After the Cuts," about the situation faculty and staff at the CSU--particularly contingent--face with the budget cuts.

Disclaimer: This is NOT an official production of any faculty or staff agency or group. Strips may be reprinted at will for campus posting, but not for profit. Higher res/larger scans are available upon request. © Me and concept contributors, all rights reserved etc etc etc.

That said:

After the Cuts 1:
Will Teach For Food.

After the Cuts 2:
New Positions - Department Chair

After the Cuts 3:
New Positions - Supplemental Security

ETA:

There was a question about student-centric ones, so we started plotting. Here's the first:
After the Cuts 4 - Student Edition!
The New Wait List

Ask and ye shall receive!

ETA 2, weeks later:

Just thought I should have the fifth one linked here. This one hasn't shown up anywhere, but I feel like I should still give it a little love. :)
After the Cuts 5
Classes Are Consolidated

A List

2009-04-08T11:23:00.000-07:00

1) I think I need a seam ripper. I need to accept the fact that I am not built appropriate to... um... any clothing, especially long tops, and that it will be easier on me to modify them if I can just rip the seams and resew, rather than pinch some places, cut open and re-hem others, and try to dart to fix the places where they bunch in between. Also, it will probably look better. It's one thing to cut up t-shirts, but nicer things I should do properly, I think.

2) I am drawing political cartoons. This is my first time ever trying them. It is fun, but also depressing. (This is because the point is essentially, "What happens to all of the people at the university who get laid off, if you cut all our funding?" = Bleak. But also sometimes snarky. Maybe I will link, but I am Shy.)

3) I had better get over feeling Shy, because there's been a certain amount of copying and distributing. (TERROR.) There's a kind of poster blitz going down on campus. There's also Facebook networking, which is kind of weird and wonderful. Also, students with Facebook are a Force, just have to say.

4) I don't know how I still feel shy, when I'm such a praise whore. Regardez:

Look! I modified the Bunny pattern to make a rat for my best gal pal, who has a cute white rat who is (quite charmingly) named Bunny. (That is said gal pal's lap, by the way, that the knit ratty is on.) It is SO CUTE. There is also, now, a fleet of bunnies. (...If you can have a fleet of three.) Sweetness ahoy!

...ETA, already:
5) ....Re: 2: I also need to make more of the cartoons. They have started turning up places on campus without us having put them there, after all of three hours. ::....so puffed up, right now:: Granted, they were given to people who wanted to also engage in sign-putting-up, and it is certainly they who have arranged it? But Chris just walked into the bathroom and saw one there. That's... well, awesome, frankly.

!

2009-04-08T00:24:00.001-07:00

How did I not hear about this for a whole 24 hours??

Vermont legalizes same-sex marriage

And with the legislature, no less! Good job, Vermont!!

(We're now up to 8% of the states. That's... well, that's definitely a good start.)

More craftiness! And kitties! And pic-spam!

2009-04-03T12:01:00.001-07:00

So, I thought I'd try to make Sculpey molds for candles. This did not work.

I made a fish (which almost worked, but not quite), and an egg, which really didn't work at all. But I can melt them down and make them Better on another day. It was a Learning Experience.

However, I *did* knit a really precious bunny, and took way too many pictures of him. But that's 'cause he's precious.

But you know what else is precious? This picture I managed to sneak on Alex of him cuddling with his own favorite stuffed animal, Pudding the Bunny:

This picture is basically a lie, because Alex spends as much of his day as he can trying to eviscerate that bunny. But I thought, hey, it's Easter coming up, he's sleepy, maybe he'll cuddle if he doesn't realize what he's got. But he did, indeed, try to kill Puddin' when he woke up.

And for more Alex sweetness, you should also see this:

I gave him the remote, because I thought he needed it. Considering he was reclining to look at the TV (which was off). That cat is a loaf. Seriously.

Arthur is equally wonderful, delightful, sweet, and silly. The sweetest cuddlebunny ever, perhaps:

GAH.

But he's harder to catch in the act, generally. I have some more of him lying like a slab of butterflied meat, with his back legs out behind him--not straight, but with insides of his legs flattened to the ground--somewhere, but not online, yet, I don't think.

You should maybe also know that every night I have to sing him the "Wiiiiiith six in the bed, and the little one said, 'Roll over! Roll over!' So they all rolled over, and one fell out, then there's five in the bed, and the little one said..." song. Usually twice. So he can roll around on his back at the top of the stairs, before bed, and get pets and kisses for it. (Yes: I have trained my cat to roll over. In as much as a cat can be trained to do something like that.) It's... How can they be SO CUTE?

They're a year and a couple months now, and it's not wearing off. They're enormous (Arthur's somewhere around 14 pounds, I think, and Alex around 16), but they're still sweet dorks. <3

Go Iowa!

2009-04-03T09:27:00.001-07:00

And Iowa has now overtaken us in the race towards being civil to our fellow human beings:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090403/ap_on_re_us/iowa_gay_marriage

Hugs and kisses, Iowa! <3, Me

Crafting Attempt, Part Four and final for now.

2009-03-30T09:13:00.000-07:00

It was a late night, and a long night, with coughing fits for Chris and really, really bad, unfair dreams for me. But this... this came out really pretty, actually. It looks how I wanted it to look.

So, this candle was a fuss. Most things were going wrong. The seal didn't work--it wasn't quite a flat tube. I had to tie wax paper to it with a hair band, and keep messing with it after the first couple pours to make sure the wax paper stuck up against the 'mold,' instead of continuing to creep up the sides of the paper. And the green wax was a pain; it filmed densely over the top while it was still completely liquid underneath, so when I'd try to pour on a new layer, it just.. kinda'.. fell through the one below it, most of the time. I really didn't match my waxes well, this time.

I scraped so much spilled wax off of the stove, and re-melted hunks of wax way too many times... aaagh...

But, I think the sides must have kept their layers, pretty well, even while the center was getting muddy. If I was mixing smells, this could have been really gross, but since only the green wax was scented (and was too strong, at that), maybe it'll just be diluted and mild. This may have accidentally gone ideally well. I *did* want blurry layers--I wanted this one to look really organic.

I'm... that's just... yeah. <3 I needed that.

VICTORY!! (Crafting Attempt, Part 3)

2009-03-29T18:11:00.000-07:00

Crafting Attempts, Part Two

2009-03-29T16:20:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the rapid update, but a few other notes:

This may be a pretty obvious step, but I kind of picked debris out of the melted wax with a toothpick (bits of singed wax or paper, bits of wick, whatever might have been stuck to it). And rather than pouring messily from the bowls I'm using (which are metal, btw), I'm using a little plastic thing I got out of the recycle bin as a pour scoop. It's working okay, not melting, not burning my fingers, etc. Wax tends to have a pretty low melting point, so the temperature it's at hasn't been harmful to anything else, so far (the cardboard tube isn't catching fire, the box top isn't getting melted onto anything, I can move them comfortably, etc.).

I'm trading the bowls while they're still hot from the top of the double boiler with one of those oven gloves, so no steam scalding.

I poured my first little layer of wax (probably not more than a cm thick) while just pressing the tube down against the box top, since it wouldn't stay stuck all the way around from just my wax dipping, and this pouring sealed it down fine--it didn't leak. I just made sure to kind of brace it a little while it cooled a bit. I also trimmed the tube so that it was a little shorter than my wick, and I draped my wicky guy over a pencil that I sat across the center of the mouth of the tube, so it would stay pretty straight upright in the wax.

And finally, if you're interested, here are some of the sites I looked at, which all had different bits of usefulness, and all assumed different levels of preparedness:

http://candleandsoap.about.com/od/candlemakingbasics/ht/htrecycle1.htm

http://www.onestopcandle.com/candle/waxrecyugly.php

http://work-at-home-mom.20m.com/

http://www.ehow.com/how_2190614_make-candle-mold.html

http://video.about.com/candleandsoap/How-to-Make-Votive-Candles.htm

Presumably more to come, when candling has ceased! My first one is about as tall as it ought to be, and I think I should probably wait on doing any more until I see how it behaves, but... but.... I have more coated box lid, that might be more like the inside of a milk carton, and that could probably be wrapped into a thicker, pillar-y shape... And.. and I've got all this white and creamy unscented or vanilla scented wax.. and I go through sooo many of those..... And, and, I've got things I could roll a finished candle in, and... . .

Crafting Attempts, Part One

2009-03-29T15:58:00.001-07:00

I love being crafty. I love repurposing things, making things, out of any material at all.

Unfortunately, I hate buying supplies. Even, um, necessary supplies. Like, say, molds, for candles. So, I go around doing everything I can think of to avoid getting these essentials. Usually, I try and fail--or try, and achieve utter mediocrity--with whatever I have lying around or can dig out of the trash or recycle bin.

("I can't help it," said the snake, "it is my nature.")

Anyway. Occasionally I do get pretty good results, or at least results I can work with, or learn from.

As mentioned above, candles. (Hopefully.)

I save all wax, because in addition to wanting to be crafty and not buy anything new, I also hate to throw anything away. I LOVE candles, burn a TON of candles, and occasionally feel guilty--as a replacement for fossil-fuel-fueled electricity, they're not so hot. Disproportionate carbon emissions, etc, but they're also frequently made of paraffin--which is (tada!) a petroleum product.

Plus, they're often dyed. And scented. Preeeetty. Smell goooood.

In short, there's no way I'm throwing this shit away.

So, I stock up big bags full of wax--pillars that have burned their wicks down. Chunks that have dripped free of votives. Occasionally even the little ring of wax left inside the edges of tealights. And then, when I get tapers from Trader Joe's, which come in pairs connected by a long piece of wick, I save the wick I cut from the middle.

I did a little internet research, and hmm'd and hah'd. "Hah," I thought, "I will melt all of these reddish ones together. Alas, I have no mold, and no wick long enough for making dip tapers--I will stick a wick inside of a glass tealight holder, and then pour the wax in around it, and it will make a kind of jar candle. Genius!"

This did not work. The wick floated up immediately. The wax sank hard in the middle. And if I could get the wick to stay down a little, when I lit them, they became gooey pools, and they swallowed their own wicks, and then I couldn't even light them again to get their wicks to float back up for me to light. Or else, they melted all the way down, and the wick floated up from the bottom again, before (yes) getting sealed in the wax and beyond fishing back up.

So I tried attaching the wicks to the little metal things that come in tealights (which I also could fish out of the trash can). I did a little more minimal research, and tried to find ways to keep the tip of the wick up. Then I melted all the bluish wax I had, and tried again.

The little metal things float, too, when a bucket of wax hits them. And they still sink into the still-present pit while burning.

Sadness and woe!

About this point in any project (i.e., utter failure), I take one of two routes: admit defeat, and put it away, or return to research. Or I combine the two: put it away for many months and sulk, before being prompted back into wanting to do it again (once the sting of shame has worn off), and then start researching properly. (This was the candle route; last night we did the Earth Hour thing, and had a candlelit cocktail hour or three, and I started Hmming and Hahing about candle efficiency, again.)

This brings on the Googling. And this mighty Googling inevitably leads me back to the need for Supplies. Which I still won't buy.

However, it gives me better ideas for improvisation.

I look up recycling wax. This works approximately how I thought; save it up, melt it down in a double boiler when you're going to use it. Try to use similar kinds of wax--wax from the same kind of candle, etc. Don't mix smells that won't go together or colors that'll look muddy. Then (these sites say casually), pour it in your mold.

Screw your mold, websites, I'm not waiting on a trip to the Michael's and the inevitable ensuing moment of weakness. I want instant gratification.

So I look up alternate molds.

"Milk carton candles?" I say. "This is promising. But they're too big. I'm not spending all that wax, when I'm not even sure I'll get my wick to stick. Plus, nowhere to put a candle so thick." So I'm going with a toilet paper tube, gently stuck down to part of a cereal-box-style lid with a little wax. I have no idea if this will come off of the cooled candle, in the end, but I can hope. I stuck one of the little metal wick holders down with wax, too, thinking this might help.

I read about layered votives, too. Using up multiple kinds of leftover or recycled wax, with different smells and different colors. THIS is where the genius tips came in.

Pour a little at a time, they say, and let it cool partway, so the layer remains distinct, and so it has a chance to get a little structural integrity. And so far, this has stopped the wick from floating all over (at least if I don't pour so much that it completely melts all the wax below it). But don't let it cool completely, they say--it'll shrink in, and then you'll get the next layer poured all over, between the lower layer and the mold, and then you have no pretty striations. Poke holes occasionally in the cooling wax near the wick--then when you pour your next layer, it'll fill in a bit where the shrinking is happening, and it won't just dissolve from lack of density. When the candle has cooled some, they say, it'll still have a pit (which I knew from experience); pour a tiny bit more wax into the center, or run a hair dryer over the top to melt in the edges, before letting it cool again and before unmolding. Repeat as necessary.

Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!

So now I've got my old Pumpkin Spice candle remains (earthy browny orange). And my old Mexican Pumpkin candle remains (brighter orange). And my Cinnamon votive remains. All melting in different bowls, traded on and off of the hot pot of water

And I am layering. Oh, yes. And occasionally poking holes. And making different widthed layers. And I am hoping very hard that the toilet paper tube will tear away, when all is said and done, and that the candle will lift off of the box lid.

There may still be incredible Fail. But I will keep you Posted.

Life is a Cabaret...

2009-03-19T12:46:00.000-07:00

"It was the end of the world. And I was dancing with Sally Bowles--and we were both fast asleep." (from "Willkommen (Reprise)", Cabaret)

Spent the morning listening to the New Broadway Cast recordings of /Cabaret/, which I love much. If any of you are interested, someone's posted video of Natasha Richardson as Sally Bowles from said Broadway run, singing 'Maybe This Time.' It's quite lovely.

Maybe this time, I'll be lucky
Maybe this time, he'll stay
Maybe this time,
For the first time,
Love won't hurry away

He will hold me, fast
I'll be home at last
Not a loser anymore
Like the last time
And the time before

Everybody loves a winner
So nobody loved me
'Lady Peaceful,' 'Lady Happy,'
That's what I long to be!
All the odds are in my favor
Something's bound to begin!
It's got to happen, happen sometime,
Maybe this time, I'll win
....
It's got to happen, happen sometime...
Maybe this time--maybe this time--I'll win.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2009-03-17T10:56:00.001-07:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everybody!

Still sick, but getting occasional flashes of a voice, so that's an improvement--just trying not to overdo it. But cooking and partying's still on, damnit. I'm cooking this, as usual, only this year I'm ALSO baking my OWN sour caraway rye. Cross your fingers for that one, eh?

And remember: whether or not you're Irish, you gotta' respect a people who tried (and mostly managed) to hang onto their language, dance, music, and (of course) national colors in the face of being hanged for doing so. So put on a little green and have a toast and feel the love. Slainte!

The Wearin' of the Green

O Paddy dear, and did ye hear the news that's goin' round?
The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground!
Saint Patrick's Day no more we'll keep, his colour can't be seen
For there's a cruel law ag'in the Wearin' o' the Green."
I met with Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand
And says, "How's poor ould Ireland, and how does she stand?"
"She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen
They're hanging men and women there for Wearin' o' the Green."

But if the colour we must wear is England's cruel red
Let it remind us of the blood that Ireland has shed!
Pull the shamrock from your hat, and throw it on the sod
But fear not, for 'twill take root there, though underfoot 'tis trod.
When laws can stop the blades of grass from growin' as they grow,
And when the leaves in summertime their colour dare not show
Then I will change my colour, too, to wear in my caubeen
And till that day, praise God, I'll stick to Wearin' o' the Green.

Wherein you all suffer for my not being able to speak out loud.

2009-03-16T10:44:00.000-07:00

Update: This is not going to be my third bad week at choir, after all. This is going to be my not-at-choir-at-all week, for the first time... um... ever.

(The general rule is, if you can get out of bed, even if you can't sing, you should at least come and sit and listen, so you don't fall behind. You can get notes, get a feel for the music, etc. Especially useful right now while we're doing German text and Poulenc, and would be able to hear correct pronunciation and crazy ass intervals, respectively.)

But, by Doc's* orders, I'm not leaving the house, today. This is probably my fault. Let me explain: Since, um, I got myself sick of TV by overuse the first week (perhaps a tale of police procedural obsession for another day), and didn't feel like I had the concentration or eye strength for reading or knitting, and couldn't speak, and was too tired to do anything else, and was becoming bored to tears? I spent yesterday with tea, Google, and youtube. Looking up BSL (British Sign Language)**, BSL (Breed-Specific Legislation)†, Girl Scout Cookies††, and things like bronchitis, croup, and pneumonia, just because. All of which I shared with my Love, in a combination of charades, scribbled notes, and occasional ill-advised whispering.

And Love is now exceedingly worried about me getting/having The Pneumonia and death, and is even threatening to make me go to the doctor, which is almost unspeakable, in this house. (I am actually not showing any signs that aren't just more likely to be bronchitis or a really bad cold, so no worries pls.) But the whole... me not being able to speak thing (TRAUMA), and not breathing well/getting really snorty while sleeping is freaking him out some. It's very sweet. But I Do Not want to go to the doctor. PLEASE no. Please?

*Disclaimer: Doc Nagel is a PhD in Philosophy, and is not licensed to dispense medical advice. This does not stop him, especially when he can tell me to do something "by Doctor's orders." He's got a "Trust me, I'm a Doctor" mug, and we frequently make the "Mother always wanted me to marry a doctor" cracks (which isn't true, actually, but necessary). I love this. <3

**This is because I watched Four Weddings and a Funeral for the first time, and was really curious about the signing. It looked nooothing like ASL or SEE***--especially the fingerspelling--so I wanted to see if it was just really that different, or if they were making it up. Verdict: it's just that different. So I taught myself the BSL alphabet, as well as some basic greetings and questions. ...I think of funny things to do, sometimes. (OMG BORED.) I also brushed up on my ASL colors and the few fiddly letters I mix up (X and Q), and read about the advent of SEE, which seems to be what they were teaching at my elementary school, and is consequently what I learned a lot of as a kid. This has caused a certain amount of Fuss when I've talked about signing with hearing ASL learners.

† Breed-specific legislation is a special kind of evil I wouldn't have even known about if not for the acronym accidentally being the same as for (tada!) British Sign Language. So: In some places, if a city council or state legislature has decided some breed or other is "dangerous," they can 'impound' and 'destroy' any member of that breed--or sometimes even mixed breeds that look more like that breed. Or, they can impose radical confinement, large fines, forced spay/neuter for JUST that breed (not others), not allow that breed to be adopted from shelters, not insure people with those animals, etc etc etc. So let me be clear: in some places, because some people have raised rottweilers or American pit bull terriers or Doberman pincers badly in the past, your well-raised, well-trained, no-signs-of-aggression baby who is even just *part* pitbull and *looks* like one can legally be taken away from you and killed, just for existing. (None of which does anything to stop someone's maladjusted weimereiner from killing someone, or an inbred cocker spaniel from taking a kid's finger. I thought we got over eugenics in the 20's? Nature-v-nurture, anybody?) Stop BSL--good website. You can look up whether this kind of thing is going on in your area.

††Did you know there are 2 different bakers for the Girl Scout Cookies? One is ABC Bakers and one is the Little Brownie Bakers. Individual Girl Scout councils negotiate with one or the other for their cookies, and neither baker makes the full complement of cookies. In the area I'm in now, because the local councils made the MISTAKE of going with ABC Bakers (instead of the Little Brownie Bakers--who we had in LA), you can't get the Lemon Creme Chalets at all up here--but you can get a new flat, creamless lemon cookie. You can't get the brand new Dulce de Leche--but that's okay, you can get a reduced fat, "pre-packaged in 100 calorie snack packs" mini cookie. ABC has also renamed most of the cookies: Samoas are called "Caramel deLites" (which are not, by any means, "Lite," so I don't know why they went with the silly health food spelling). Tagalongs are Peanut Butter Patties. Do-Si-Do's are Peanut Butter Sandwiches. Trefoils are Shortbread. OH MY GOD ABC do you have NO IMAGINATION??? ::....pointlessly furious:: ...I feel like I've unfairly maligned Turlock; all this time, I thought that maybe in some areas, they just assumed no one would know what Samoa was, or Tagalog, and thought it was best not to reference it at all. But it's actually a whole big cookie divide. (Then again, maybe the local council made the decision for the same reason, I can't say.) Anyway, this all came about because I was trying to figure out why the local Scouts have crapped out so early. I've been walking around with $14 in quarters, trying to score another heap of Thin Mints and Samoas (and, I thought, maybe some Lemon Creme Chalet's, but it ain't gonna' happen, apparently) before the season's out, but there is not a Girl Scout in sight. WOE.

***SEE is "Signed Exact English"--it's a kind of modified ASL that has 1) added letter shapes to signs, to distinguish similar concepts with different names (e.g. happy -vs- merry; instead of having one sign for the basic concept, as in ASL, you'd use an "h" shape with that sign to denote "happy" and an "m" shape to denote "merry," in SEE), and 2) imposed English grammar/syntax--codifying more pronouns, tenses, prepositions, etc, so that every word in an English sentence would be represented by a sign (e.g. to say you had two cats, you would sign out exactly: "I have two cats," in SEE, instead of something like "two cats, me.") It was invented in the '70's with the idea of making it easier to learn to write in English, so it got popular in schools, but it's an imposed structure and the deaf community seems pretty divided.

....Um. Maybe y'all know it, since we haven't met many times, and I was probably on ...fairly good behavior? But this (see above) is how I talk. There is a certain sprinkling of ADD and unbridled Chatty-Cathy-ism that I've slowly calmed, over the years (I was actually even very quiet, for a long time), but which is currently bubbling back up violently towards the surface. I am a fount of useless information always, but I can usually keep it in my pants when I'm not specifically prompted. (For instance, on a normal day, if I had seen one of you had mentioned Girl Scout Cookies, you might have got the Cookie Battle information, and so spared the rest of the world this fate, and I wouldn't have felt the need to go on and on. But no. Not today.)

On car rides, as a little kid, my aunts actually offered me money to shut up for Five Whole Minutes. And I never, ever made it. Because I could be quiet for a few minutes, but by then my brain had worked out so much that needed sharing, I couldn't wait. ....They still tease me about this.

Chris is going through this.

You are going through this.

I am going batshit.

The quick version:

2009-03-15T10:25:00.000-07:00

Went to Arlington/DC for the better part of a week for a conference with Chris, had a good time. Picked up or developed something particularly virulent, probably en route home. Two Mondays ago, it turned into the nastiest cold I've had since mono, replete with a bad fever, hacking cough, etc. Spent the next week on the couch, useless and miserable and devouring tapioca and jello.

That weekend, felt much much better, so much so that we managed a little carousing. I only had a little cough/stuffy head, and we'd planned to for weeks and weeks in advance, and we'd already had to shift plans back to accommodate the Sick. So, we got to spend the night out with four--FOUR--of Chris's best friends from grad school, all of whom I love and haven't been able to spend much time with. It was a lot of fun. I was even able to sing most of the choir rehearsal the next night.

And then I started getting sicker, again. Still, we pushed on; shit to do, and I was getting a little cabin fever. This week--or, actually, weekend, I guess--we acquired and assembled storage benches we've been needing for, oh, a year, and have been pretty busy with cleanup and rearranging, etc etc.

So now, a week after I was doing so well, it's devolved completely again; I have no voice whatsoever (TRAUMA!!! D: ), breathing is iffy, swallowing's a treat, and the substances coming out of my lungs are unwholesome at best. I'm still not as sick as I was to begin with, thank goodness, but this is going to be my third choir rehearsal in a row in bad condition, and I've missed my knitting group three times. And I've got plans, damnit. Tuesday is My Day. I cook and sing and carouse, and there's no negotiating that. I was planning to be all better by then. We're having people in; I'm cooking for 5, this time, which I've never done.

Come on, body... Please....

--Anyway. I don't have any energy for doing the catchup dance. So, please! Tell me something nice or interesting that's happened to you in the last three weeks, and send some love my way. I'll send it right back to you. <3

Cake or death?

2009-02-13T19:56:00.001-08:00

Hope everybody's Friday the 13th is going as happily and productively and (dare I say) luckily as mine. I've been baking up a storm, since, for once, I'm cooking for Valentine's Day (Chris being obligated to chocolate and flowers--our place is now delightfully decorated with carnations <3 <3 <3 <3 <3). It's been a day of sneakiness and goodness.

And in addition to being Valentine's, tomorrow is also our declared birthdate for our babies!

So we're having our buddies over for a little kitty party tonight (Chris is not much for sweets, so I figured we ought to spread out cat-party sweets from V.D. sweets)--I've made tiny little layer cakes, with pastry cream between the layers and buttercream frosting on the outsides. All homemade, from scratch, thank you. One of them has orange vanilla frosting and cream, with a little spiral of lemon zest, and one of them has mocha frosting with chocolate decoration.

To match, see???? :D

I know, I know. But I was already making the world's tiniest almond-pomegranate* pink layer cake for tomorrow (*the pomegranate is from a syrup, so it's just close)--what else could I do?)

Leverage?

2009-01-23T14:00:00.000-08:00

Has anyone else out there been watching Leverage?

Just curious. I don't watch much TV, and I had had no interest, because I saw the commercials on mute on a plane like 800 times over on a couple flights in December, and it looked insufferable after that? Until I realized: (1) Christian Kane (Lindsey on Angel), and, (2) it is essentially Robin Hood.

I found upon actually watching it that it is also Ocean's Eleven (and other "let's put together a crazy mixed-up group that doesn't fit together because they have the diverse skills we need to get this job done and hilarity and badassery ensue" premises--see Sneakers, Armageddon, The Replacements, etc, as you like). I am a sucker for that formula, but I don't feel too bad about that. It's fun. But even the kinds of humor and kinds of camera shots and kinds of music are very Ocean's Eleven.

I am also a sucker for anything with a Robin Hood vibe. They're arranging economic vigilante justice, which... well, probably doesn't sound so thrilling as I type it? But it's like.... it's the bank heist, elaborate grift, ass-kicking, computer-hacking, badass version of that.

It's incredibly satisfying and essentially guiltless brain candy.

(Also, Christian Kane. Looking shaggy and literate and butch all at once. <3 What more could we ask for?)

Death to Nickleby!

2009-01-22T12:50:00.000-08:00

I'm going to be a fangirl. Seriously. I have every intention of becoming the press conference and policy junkie that I've always wanted to be, but didn't have the stomach for. I have been fascinated by politics for a long time; maybe I can be that without crying as much. (Or at least without bad-crying instead of good-crying.)

So I was curious how things would be looking for higher ed, in the new Administration (on account of how budgets at the CSU are currently crippled and we're THIS CLOSE to falling apart), so I went to the whitehouse.gov page. You should try this; it is very different from how it was. There are actual bios of everyone involved in the administration. There are detailed agendas. At the bottom of the page? You can skim down the list of topics on the agenda and find anything you want. They're actually telling us what they're up to. Really.

Well, my other pet education dream, in addition to getting higher ed funding and thus not winding up on the street when the lecturers are all purged, is the death and dismemberment of Nickleby (NCLB, No Child Left Behind). Or, if not the death in name and drawing and quartering of its effigy, then death in content: the reform of it until it no longer resembles the bubble-filling, teaching-to-the-testing, running out good teachersing, killing public schoolsing, taking money from schools that can't afford books because they couldn't afford the books to teach their students well enough that they could pass the testsing self... into something that actually doesn't harm the children who're being "left behind" more than help them.

(....I was going to go into elementary school teaching; virtually all of my family are K-12 teachers. I Believe In Public Schools. So Nickleby is a very, very sore spot. Of all the things Bush has done, I actually may find Nickleby the most insulting, and I know that's saying a lot.)

Ahem.

Well! What do I see when I open up the page for the education agenda?

Reform No Child Left Behind: Obama and Biden will reform NCLB, which starts by funding the law. Obama and Biden believe teachers should not be forced to spend the academic year preparing students to fill in bubbles on standardized tests. They will improve the assessments used to track student progress to measure readiness for college and the workplace and improve student learning in a timely, individualized manner. Obama and Biden will also improve NCLB's accountability system so that we are supporting schools that need improvement, rather than punishing them.

!!!!!!!

....!!!!!!!!!

And a !!!!!!!!!!!!! for good measure!

(Also? Supporting Head Start and transitional bilingual ed. Dude.)

::sings and does a little dance right back to the kitchen.::

Unrelatedly, for my Love and possibly others: I am baking. This makes me a ginger baker.

"At laaaaaast..."

2009-01-21T14:04:00.000-08:00

I have been a ball of fuzzy lumpy crying for most of the last day and a half. We actually went to watch the inauguration on campus, expecting four TVless dorm students, but the room wound up packed with people. There were probably 50 students and a dozen faculty. A woman made a Context kind of speech before hand that was very nice.

We all clapped and cheered, so many times. My god, I cheered. There were other people in Turlock--dozens and dozens--watching with us, happy. I feel less alone here, now.

I also couldn't stop crying. It's taking nothing to set me off, right now. And not just a little tearing up. I mean serious waterworks. (I'll chalk some of it up to hormones, but it really can't account for the quantity.)

I could gush, but I won't too much. Most of what I would want to point out probably everyone else noticed. But there are a couple more things I want to note about yesterday:

First of all, in the obligatory list of faiths of people living together and sharing and so on, Obama actually mentioned unbelievers. He did. I don't think this has ever happened. It's kosher for public figures to talk about tolerance and respect and mutual interest while listing Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, but no one--no one--includes Oh We Of Little Faith. (Did you know that in the surveys about "who you don't want moving in next door or marrying your daughter," atheists beat out Muslims, Blacks, and gays? Beat out, in fact, Everyone, for the number one stay-away spot? And our new president actually acknowledged the existence of the unreligious in a non-negative context. I am impressed. I feel Validated. I feel Loved.)

Second of all (despite the presence of tall buildings with lots of windows lining the route), Barack and Michelle actually got out and walked. Twice. They walked quite a lot of the route, some of it unannounced. They held hands with each other and waved and occasionally talked to people on the route. (I cried and cried and cried and cried.)

Third of all: First dance between the First Couple. "At Last." Do I have to say anything more about that? (Maybe a little: Why am I so invested in their Love? They literally fill me with love. I feel so much affection for them. I can't.. really parse it out, but they make me so, so happy. I bawled.)

...I don't think I really believed it was happening--that he'd really get to take office, start work as president--until this morning when the first executive orders started getting drafted. I was all a little surreal. Every time I realize we have a new president, I'm stunned. And usually I cry.

Anyway, y'all: LOVE.

(PS. I so went out and got duck breast to cook for dinner. I made it with a delicious sweet glaze (but no chutney), and it was very good. ....If that seems like a non-sequitur, that's probably for the best. )

Come on, people, now, smile on your brother--everybody get together, try to love one another, right now.

2009-01-12T15:43:00.000-08:00

Have y'all seen this?

National Day of Service.

There's nothing going on near us, of course. Well, no, the NEA student group on campus is serving coffee to homeless people (which... seems like a strange choice of a thing to do, to me, but whatever you like). I was already planning on going Sat. to give blood with my gal pal Christina, because it happens to be our standing bimonthly date, but that's not really an organized event. I'm not sure what could be gotten going, around here, what would be a good idea to do, other than get the word out to go down to the bloodbank.

...

....Let me just reiterate what's going on here: our president elect, the weekend and holiday (MLK Jr Day) before his inauguration, as a method of honoring people we want to honor, and as something that is just good to do, is calling for a national day of service. For people in this country to just go out and do something that helps their communities. All together.

I'm so in tears, right now.

(Should I ask the local bloodbank group about doing something official with this? I know the Red Cross is doing some drives. God, I'm not a start-the-ball-rolling-er. I'm a good volunteer, but...)

Hey nonny no...

2009-01-11T14:22:00.001-08:00

I am feeling totally and completely enamored of Morris dancing, right now. That is all.

...No, not all at all. Goodies for you:

Here is a video.

Here is a great Froud drawing of a Coblynau doing what is essentially a Morris dance--this was my first introduction to it (and I was probably, like, 8 when I saw it), and I've had a love for it divorced from any actual practice, since.

Terry Pratchett was responsible for most of the rest, with the Morris and the complementary Dark Morris in Reaper Man (which I just finished reading) and Lords and Ladies (which is on my shortlist of favorites, of his). And then Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me! talked this morning about the Morris dance dying, and I got very sad. And realized I'd never seen it done. So I looked it up and youtubed myself into submission. And I'm in love.

There are flowers and bells on. And ribbons and folk music and I am in love.

Amateur Night

2008-12-31T18:11:00.001-08:00

Really, Turlock? It's a little early, isn't it?

So it's a quarter to six, and we're already hearing sirens. Seriously, guys: be careful out there and watch out for the amateurs.

...Aaaand it's just occurred to me that not everybody calls this Amateur Night, so a little explanation, if you haven't come across that one: for a lot of people, this is the One Night a year they drink themselves into stupors, and they do not know how to take care of themselves when they do, because they have no real prior experience (amateurs). Seasoned drinkers hopefully know better than to drive around or decide to fire off a celebratory gunshot after a couple bottles of champagne or many a cocktail, and plan ahead to avoid dangerous behaviors, but some of the people who save it all up for one or two nights a year, all the underaged kids mooching at parties, etc, are unprepared for their own potential assholery and ineptitude and don't make those kinds of plans.

Chris and I and our best friend neighbors planned way ahead, and moved into the same townhouse complex, so we live within staggering distance of one another. We're having a domestic pub crawl between our places (which will probably involve a lot of games--planning for Scattergories, Apples to Apples, and Legos VS Lincoln Logs, because we are so still 4 years old), because it doesn't involve crossing a street or getting in cars, just driveways. If we run out of something, we just walk 30 yards in a safe space to the other's place. If anyone decides they need to get naked before wandering home, it's not even on a main drag, and they'll only be out in the open exposed to the elements for a minute. If anyone passes out, they're already in a safe place. Plus, no cab fare required.

Hoping everyone else's plans are as exciting and safe, LOVE

Fred's New Look

2008-12-31T15:11:00.000-08:00

Oh! Thought I'd posted this!

I'll eventually upload/link to the pictures of Fred's roots, week by week, but I didn't remember to get one last one of his long, happy roots, before I potted him up, last week.

But after starting as a trodden-upon, wilty, rotty vine in the kinko's dirty parking lot, Fred has now finally graduated to Houseplant, and Mascot extraordinaire, in a pretty Talavera pot, braced upright by his own strength (+ physics of dirt and leverage), instead of a bathroom wall. Yes, he's got a couple scars. Yes, he's small. But he is Strong and he is Beautiful. See him, and be inspired! Take heart! Feel the love! You, too, are Strong and Beautiful.

Chleben in the mail! Chleben in the mail! WOO!!

2008-12-31T15:09:00.000-08:00

Okay, am I the only person in the world who is really happy to get a fruitcake for Christmas? Really?

Or is Polish Christmas chleben from Chris's Aunt Mary Jo just not representative of the creature known as fruitcake? It is the only kind I've had. It looks like fruitcake looks. It has tiny, chewy bright bits of bitter candied orange peel and sweet raisins in it. It is in dense loaf form. It is sweet and strange and delicious.

Come on, what's so bad about fruitcake?

(Hope y'all are having nice holidays and are being safe for New Year's Eve. Have a great new year, everybody.)

...and there's reason to believe, maybe this year will be better than the last...

2008-12-17T11:30:00.000-08:00

So, 2008. I've been trying to put it into perspective, but I keep just coming up shocked with, "Wait, that was this year, too?" This year has felt about eight years long. And yet I keep being surprised it's almost over. Maybe I've lost the sense that years do, eventually, end.

It's been a hard year. A really, really hard year.

So, the necessary retrospective follows. This year...

We had to put our Lancelot to sleep. Starting a cycle of panic attacks rooted in "But--but what if..."s and me having to hash through the entire decision making process again, every single time, to shut down the more traitorous and inventive parts of my brain. Frequently. Still. And an occasionally crippling depression.
Relatedly, since then, I have not been able to deal with the concept of, mentions of, fictional portrayals of, euthanasia, or any (attempted) killing of an animal or person out of a sense of it being the right thing or the only thing to do (especially, of course, if it isn't actually as good an idea as it sounded--the horrible murder of Caesar or the suicide of Marc Antony in Rome, Desdemona in Othello, the We3 in We3--but even when there are no choices, like Max in I Am Legend, etc) ...and I seem to be seeing a lot of it, this year, as witnessed here. Even little things... I'm too frayed. Arthur lies like roadkill, a lot (boneless and twisted at odd angles), and being prone to irreverent and macabre humor generally, every time I see that I automatically tease, "Aw, roadkill kitty!" and then feel sick. ("So cold... so cold...." is also common currency in our house, and every time I do it, I have to fight off panic and imagining Lancelot in my arms and probably feeling cold.)
...This has been the hardest thing in my life I've ever had to experience. I've lost my father, two grandparents, and plenty other family and friends to death, and many more friends to every other kind of separation, I've seen so much sickness and wasting, peaceful and not, but I've never been responsible for euthanasia and the impossible guilt of it, and this has come very close to ruining me. I am not built to be in that position. I am incapable.

...We lost a fishy, too.
A friend from the choir passed away.
I didn't get to sing in one of the concerts for said choir, this year, due to my own bad planning.
My uncle was arrested--again--and kicked out for good, and I haven't seen him since before *last* Thanksgiving. I haven't heard from him either, except for when...
...Great Uncle Dick died, and it was proved that there's not even enough civility or communication between branches of my family to really spread the word, or share commemoration plans.
There were root canals and crowns.
..and noticeable worsening of TMJ, weight gain and lack-of-loss, depression, anxiety, paranoia, grief, hopelessness, lethargy.
My 84 year old grandmother was robbed and has been very seriously rocked by it.
Collapse of the housing market, the stock market, the car industry, American industry in general. Also a budget crisis and other moves at the university that are putting Chris's (and a ton of other people's) job at risk, and has meant he's had to fight almost non-stop the entire semester, and most of the semester before, without any real sense of reprieve or rest. His anxiety and exhaustion have become critical, a few times.
Two friends from the CSU system have come up dangerously (potentially terminally) sick.
California caught fire, several times, including once sufficient to force my cousin and her family to evacuate, and coat everyone else I know here in ash.
Countless problems for many, many people in my family, and for friends.
Family politics (and community politics) have come to a few crescendos of the kind that I'm apparently no longer able to cope with or distance myself from enough to not spiral into despair when even something as innocuous as an email about disowning so-and-so, or a political or social fwd. or op-ed or letter to the editor comes up. See: Global Warming, Prop 8, presidential and local elections, and Family Fun.
I frequently just actively ache, related to any or all of the points above.

However...

This was a year of good travel. We went to Puebla, my first time to Mexico, and fell in love. Even after losing Lancelot and friends and family, I felt whole for a while, and ate well, and saw beautiful things, and met beautiful philosophers, and had a good time. We got 300 Pinochle (the rarest combination of cards in Pinochle, suffice it to say) 5 times in 6 games sitting at a little table in our hotel, over two nights of playing.
We went to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, and saw fantastic plays (though Othello killing Desdemona just before bedtime did traumatize) and I got to meet Chris's wonderful friend Nancy, and stand in the ocean and wash my face with the Pacific, and there's nothing more healing than the ocean.
We went to San Francisco for my birthday, and saw Cabaret, and it was amazing (though also traumatizing).
We went to Pittsburgh, and I got to meet and absolutely fall for Chris's oldest friend Bob, and re-meet and absolutely fall for his best friend from grad school, Dave.
We got to go to Ohio for a pre-Christmas, and it snowed--my first White 'Christmas' ever--and got to meet my nephews, their wives, and their babies (!!!!!). I also got to see three picture albums full, including some dangerously hot pictures of teenage and college Chris (maybe more on this, later).
This has been a good year for new friends.

I finished my first year at work, and was liked well enough that they kept me, and gave me a raise, and told me they loved me.
Presidential election--'nuff said. Barely perceptible loosening of the shoulders and soothing of the nerves.
We've got few friends here, but we've grown closer to them.
Christina goes with me to give blood, now, and they've streamlined the process (except I still have to explain to them every time how Puebla is not a malaria area, and show them on the map where it is). This actually does make a noticeable difference in my life.
I had choir, and it was good.
I learned to knit, knit in the round, and knit cables, and have been wailing on it (although the carpal tunnel is forcing a stop, at the moment).
I've written 57k of a novel, and I did 53k of it in one month. I also wrote a ton of fic, and plenty on several other writing projects.
I've gotten a little better at the guitar, and have been playing piano a little more, and even the flute.
We've written songs.
I've read a lot--a lot--of books, and enjoyed them. (Did I mention I've almost finished writing one of my own? Yes? Well, let's mention that again.)
I'm actively working on how I eat and how I play and work to try to jump-start the thyroid and serotonin and mental habits generally, and I do feel like I'm feeling a little better.
My grandmother has recovered very, very well from last year's stroke, if not from the burglary.
We're saving money to eventually buy a house. The option to do it this summer (or next) is probably gone, but we'll be stabler in two and a half years than we would be in one half of one, and we'll get to live staggering distance from our best friends for two years more than we would have, which is important.

And we got these kittens. These beautiful, wonderful, 13-pounds-each 10-month-old monsters, who love constantly, and love hard, and love wonderfully, and are trying very hard to save the world (or at least us) with that amazing love.

So.. Well...

I guess what I'm getting at is this. All my life I've believed myself to be an optimist, but I can't, even in the face of all of this, get myself to think this year has been a good one, even on balance. I can't manage it. But.. I couldn't get rid of it, either. Everything that happens is by definition reliant on everything else that happened before it to be that way--situations come out of other situations, and no matter how horrible or traumatic something is, you can't have anything else that came after it without it, even if it's not a trade-off you'd have orchestrated. (Chris had to be married miserably and come out to California and be in a tough position for us to meet, for instance. You've got your own examples to work with, I know.) I would not have made these arrangements. Ever. But there's a new year coming, with these loves and these opportunities and these joys, and there's hope.

I guess I can't ask for more than that.

No on 8 Protests!

2008-11-15T11:06:00.000-08:00

Hey, guys, I'm a half hour late for most of you (our area is being silly and not starting 'til noon PST), but...

Go protest! If you've got a little time, get out there--there are national (actually, INTERNATIONAL) protests today starting 10:30 am, PST, against Prop 8 and the repeal of gay rights, and they're in every state. 300 cities.

You can look for your nearest protest location here:

http://jointheimpact.wetpaint.com/

Show the love! Love to all of you!

Yay!

2008-11-12T13:30:00.000-08:00

Meme time!

If you saw ME in a police car, what would you think I got arrested for?

Answer me, then post to your own blog and see how many crimes you get accused of.

Love.

2008-11-11T17:35:00.000-08:00

Soooo behind on NaNoWriMoing. SO behind. Alas! It'll get done or it won't, I suppose. At least I finally caught up on a little work, today. Some cleaning (Chris was a wonder of clean), errands.

Anyway, in case you haven't seen this, here's Keith Olbermann's comment on Prop 8. It was really beautiful and I cried a lot.

Transcript and video link here.

Time to stop crying/start thinking, I guess.

2008-11-05T09:51:00.001-08:00

So, on a personal level, how do we go about petitioning to have domestic partnership benefits extended to different-sexed couples? Lobbying? Ballot measure? Lawsuit? Our DP from Berkeley isn't recognized by the rest of the state, and I don't want to lose my teeth but I don't currently wish to have any association with the institution of marriage as it stands, either. If rights of union are being ghettoized, I'd rather live in the slums.

And with regards to making the institution more noble: Can we counter-amend?

For instance:

Repeal Sec. 7.5 of Article I of the California Constitution ("Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California."), and replace it with (OR) amend Sec. 7.5 of Article I of the California Constitution to read, "In accordance with the 14th Amendment of the United States constitution, viz that 'No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws,' the right to marry in California shall not be abridged on basis of race, ethnicity, creed, color, religion or religious background, gender, gender expression, sexual orientation, disability, or political affiliation. Marriage shall be hereby defined as between any two competent and consenting adults. In accordance with Article IV of the Constitution of the United States, viz 'Full Faith and Credit shall be given in each State to the public Acts, Records, and judicial Proceedings of every other State,' all marriages performed in other states, regardless of the identity of the parties, shall be valid and recognized in California, and will accord all associated rights."

How does that sound? I'd vote for it.

And should we wait a few years? In 2000 (during the primaries) Prop 22 made it 61%/39%, and Prop 8 only made it 52%/48%, this year, which is a hell of a lot of progress (maybe I should try to take hope from that). Maybe waiting would mean more young people will be of age and voting and more hostile people would be, um. Not voting. Plus, presidential election years draw more of the whole population, esp. more young people.

EDIT: I'm refusing to get my hopes up, but: there are apparently in the neighborhood of several million absentee votes yet to be counted. Absentee voting used to be the domain of the elderly and invalid, but it has also recently become (at least here) the best option for getting the young and forgetful, lazy, overworked, or travel-prone to remember to vote. So that's a whole lot of wiggle room that could go either way. Will keep you updated if I hear more. Though you probably will hear it, too.

A ringing endorsement, at 4% and holding

2008-11-05T07:39:00.000-08:00

All decisions for who will be allowed to marry at all must apparently be determined by whom a clergyman must marry. Since they cannot make their own autonomous decisions about whom among the legally allowed they will perform a marriage ceremony for, we'll have to make it uniformly unobjectionable to them.

Clearly, because clergy could be forced to marry people outside of their own faith, we must by 4% pass a constitutional amendment to prohibit anyone of different faiths marrying. In fact, all intermarriage between specific congregations should probably be forbidden.

Furthermore, atheists and agnostics must be forbidden the right to marry at all, even civilly at the county registrar office, because we can't allow them to force religious leaders to marry them, either.

We might have to eliminate civil marriage ceremonies altogether, just to be sure they don't open the door to anything else problematic.

Who knew that a priest, preacher, minister, etc. has NEVER made the decision to deny ANY couple their services in marriage? Every 90's sitcom with a teenage couple getting assessed (and sometimes denied) by their religious advisor for marriage suitability was wrong, apparently. And when my best friend and her fiance (now husband) had to go through the same thing, the pastor must have just been pulling their legs, seeking to pretend (if only for a moment) that as a professional, he had the right to decide how to apply his services.

Maybe we should revisit that 1948 bit of activism by judges, too, and by 4% make a constitutional amendment to undo what they did when they legalized different-raced marriages, too. There are surely still religious leaders who are uncomfortable about being forced to do that, day in and day out. But how they have suffered in silence!

This is becoming complicated. Perhaps we ought to just install some kind of broader protection for them. A.. a kind of wall between religion and politics, a... a separation, if you will.....

Edit: In case you're wondering just which rights have been taken away, here, this is a good comparison of marriage and domestic partnerships. The rule: never get sick, injured, or moved over state lines. Maybe better just not to travel at all.

Oh, and!

2008-11-03T09:18:00.001-08:00

I remembered, I remembered!

John Charles Daly urging everyone to go vote. 50+ years ago. But, still... It's lovely. That man makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

Picture Post!

2008-11-03T09:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, because I'm behind, this is a quickie.

Me at Halloween. I was a black-and-white fairy, and I made my wings with cardboard, craft paper, and watercolor. I was supposed to be wearing white gloves, to make me monochrome, but I forgot for the pictures. :(

Here's one of Christina (who was also a fairy!) and I together.

And here is a fresh picture of Fred!

Kitten pictures should be seen, too:

Arthur cuddling preciously.

Arthur for some reason suffering a feather boa.

And Alex being a wonderful shlunk.

And for ultimate sweetness, the two of them cuddling with an illegal amount of cute.

Awwwwww...

I also want to pimp my knitting. First sock, woohoo!

Also, I think I am NaNoWriMoing. ...What? It can be a verb...

Edit: Holy crap, I don't want to do work today. o.o I have to practice up for choir (don't want to), I should start scanning receipts for work finances (nope), do a loooot of stuff in the database (meh), clean (bah), EDIT EDIT: AND LAUNDRY... Gotta' bring the houseplants I set out to get rained on back in.

What do I want to do? Put on Tin Man or Reefer Madness and knit the next sock. And write, maybe.

Crap crap crap.

Maybe if I make some tea, I will be inclined to clean up a little bit. At least bring the plants in, set some different ones out. Then, if I slack or craft, I won't feel too bad.

This is my plan, for now.

The Tale of Fred, the new mascot.

2008-11-01T19:56:00.000-07:00

So I was making copies for work at The Kinko's, Thursday, and as I was crossing the parking lot by their dumpster, there was a pathetic scrap of plant on the ground.

(This is a recreation of finding him. That's my kitchen floor, instead of the dirty asphalt.)

This is a close-up of his mangled-ness.

Now, his lower end was rotted black. His top end was rotted black. In the middle, he was all wilted, one of his leaves was torn, and I suppose the vine fell off or was plucked off. When I found him, he'd been stepped on and dropped and just hadn't even made it into the dumpster when they went to throw him away. I said, "Oh no!" And he said his name was Fred, and I felt very sad for him. And a little upset.

To me, this is the best analogy for throwing away a piece of pothos:

The screw fell out of my glasses. I have the screw. I have the screwdriver. I have the glasses. I will throw them away, because they are broken.

A pothos is the easiest plant in the world to save. You cannot kill a pothos. If you kill a pothos, you can make more pothos plants from the corpse. If you have a live pothos, you can make an exponential number of pothos. Four and a half years ago, Chris and I had one small pothos plant. Now, that plant has vines that are 8-10 feet long, and they're only that short because I kept cutting pieces from them to make new pothos. (There's one in the living room that's very bushy, there's one in the study/office thing there's another one in the music/craft room along with The Mama plant, there's one at Christina's...) If a limb breaks or rots off, you cut off the bad bits, you snap off a couple of leaves to leave the little root nubs open, and you stick the ends in a glass of water. And then it gets new roots, and you stick it in the dirt again. It just does.

So I rearranged my purse and my pack of copies and I picked up this wilty dirty thing, and walked home. When we got there, I knew he'd be my mascot. So I gave him a bath, to freshen him and get the footprints off.

I trimmed the rotted parts off.

I popped off a leaf.

And then I stuck him in a glass of water.

Here is a picture.

Looking very snazzy in his nice glass in the bathroom!

And here is a close-up of the places his roots will grow.

I will keep taking pictures of him every few days. He already looks a lot better--his leaves aren't curling and wilted anymore, and he looks full of Life. He's scarring over at the top end, but that's to be expected, I suppose.

So please, root him on (as he ROOTS hahahahaetc). He just needs a little Love.

Prop 8 again.

2008-10-31T14:30:00.000-07:00

I wouldn't have put it quite this way, myself, but I do like to obey a meme:

Copy this sentence into your blog if you're in a heterosexual marriage, and you don't want it "protected" by the bigots who think that gay marriage hurts it somehow.

I did put it this way, though, as a facebook status a little while back:
Lauren 's marriage's core is threatened by DENYING loving, committed couples the right to marry, NOT by recognizing it. Please help defeat Prop 8.

I also put this there, trying to address some of the misinformation on what people are putting out about why-they-need-prop-8:
Chris and I were in the closet for two years, about our marriage. We only felt proud enough of it to admit to having it at all when CA finally overturned its ban on same-sex couples being allowed to join us. While marriage was a segregated, inequitable institution, we didn't want any part of it. "Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire" creates legally recognized bonds--if my friends who've been together for 6 years (or 10 years or 20 years), taking care of one another, loving one another, respecting and committing, are not allowed at least the same rights as those marrying for money, convenience, or insurance, then THAT is a threat to the real core of marriage. Prop 8 has nothing to do with what children will be taught in schools--they cannot be forced to learn anything their parents don't want them to learn. And Prop 8 has nothing to do with what a preacher can say in church--there's a separation of church and state and protection for free speech, and unless he's inciting to riot, any minister is safe, regardless of the government's stance on marriage--just like now. And Prop 8 will not protect a church from being forced to marry same sex couples--because they can't be forced to marry anyone, regardless, as it is. All Prop 8 does is take away a precious right from one minority of the population. It wasn't right when loving, different-raced couples weren't allowed to marry, and it's not right that loving, same-gendered couples aren't--it's just segregation being run on a different line. Separate is inherently unequal, when did we forget that?

...And today, after getting the link to a new No on 8 ad which is good, so you should watch it, I linked it with this:

So, some of the public thought it was wrong or unnatural for certain people to get married. Then some activist judges on the CA Supreme Court decided that perhaps they knew better than everyone else, and that tradition shouldn't be the strongest determination of what new laws were enacted or which old laws were removed, so they blatantly ignored the will of the public--when IN 1948 they repealed California's anti-miscegenation laws. Afterwards, preachers didn't get sued for saying racist things in church, unless they incited to riot. No preacher was forced to marry a couple they didn't think should be married. And there are still schools that are de facto segregated, where images of happy, well-adjusted mixed-race families are not shown, and it is never mentioned.

...Which I thought was kinda' clever.

I haven't been posting too much here, because I figure most of you are probably already sympathetic. And facebook people I'm not so sure about (plus, more Californians). But, still. I'm starting to get pretty scared. I can't do much, but I'm doing what I can.

It's really close. It could still go either way. I keep thinking of printing up a flyer to put in every mailbox of houses with a "Yes on 8" sign in the yard. Or to tape over their signs... ....but it seems a little futile. Just got an email from my man Carl, who helps keep me connected to the real world (that is, non-Turlock), who said there were a lot of pro-8 signs down near my old neighborhood. I'm hoping it was concerted protest, but I'm still pretty appalled. And I keep crying.

Please, California... we're better than this. We don't need to be like this. (This goes for you, too, nation.)

P.S. Hopefully later, I will tell you happier things, about Halloweening, fairy wings, and Fred, my new mascot.

They found it, they found it!!!

2008-10-29T09:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, seriously, anonymous Wilco informants for the win!

http://www.muzzleofbees.com/2008/10/29/wilco-unveil-two-new-songs-bridge-school-benefit/

The Song #1 link, for 10/25, is the one I heard. It doesn't sound quite as good as having been there (there can be something very permeating about live music, and the rhythm came through more in person) but the sound quality's still really good! You can play it with Quicktime on the website or open it through iTunes, though it remains streaming, so I can't imagine this'll be a permanent download--might want to jump on it if you're interested!

It eats my brain. I love it. It can be my special brain-eating friend. I want to eat it.

...nnnhungry. Breakfast didn't take the first time. Nauseableh.

Bridge School Concert!

2008-10-26T17:02:00.001-07:00

So I have some of the worst blisters on my feet I've ever had. I strained my knees badly, and my left one may have Something Wrong with it (I'm not sure if it's all because of my shoes, the way we were sitting on the ground, or the little spill I took off the curb in the dark on the walk back to the hotel). I either caught a bug or so upset my body with my food habits for the weekend that it was behaving like it's been poisoned, so I'm weak as a kitten, more dehydrated than I can ever recall being (incl. when I've had real live food poisoning), and very food wary. I can't walk without listing to port or starboard, and I'm spending my day sipping bubblegum flavored generic pedialyte and cuddling my cats.

But I had an absolutely amazing time. (Copious links to lyrics and youtube to follow.)

I spent a lot of time bawling, first of all (but that usually tends to constitute a good time, for me): Death Cab for Cutie did one called "I Will Follow You Into the Dark." Lyrics. Video/music. I'd never heard it before, but that didn't stop me completely melting down. And Sarah McLachlan did "Adia" (lyrics, video, only she played her own piano) and "Angel" (lyrics, video). Adia is one of my favorite songs, and Angel is on the ASPCA ad that always turns me into a sobbing wreck. So, weeping.

This concert is almost always entirely acoustic (well, amplified, but with no electric instruments), and live, and no session musicians, etc, so it really shows a very raw, sincere version of what's going on. If someone was mostly the result of sound engineering and multiple tracks and so on, it would be evident. But everyone was amazing.

I didn't take notes the whole time, this time, since I figured it'd be better to just relax and enjoy, though I did scribble down a bit of lyric if I wanted to be able to find the song again. Everyone did several songs. Neil Young did Sugar Mountain and one or two others at the beginning, as per usual, which was great. Then Band of Horses, whom I enjoyed, and Cat Power and the Dirty Delta Blues Band (she did one that was "Lord, Help the Poor and the Needy" video) that was quite good and even funkier than in that link, as well as CCR's "Fortunate Son" *with* Neil Young). Then Death Cab for Cutie, who did several, incl. "Brothers on a Hotel Bed" (lyrics, video), "Grapevine Fires" (lyrics) which pleased the apocalypse-lover in my soul, and the one I mentioned before.

Wilco was amazing, and started our politics for the night (other than the frequent admonitions from the video screens to vote). Jeff Tweedy, their lead (who's starting to look like a cross between Ewan McGregor-circa-Velvet Goldmine and Harvey Keitel--EDIT: this is a good thing, btw), said, "I'm wearing a flag pin," very gruffly. The audience mixed giggles and cheers for this, and the close-up showed he was, indeed, wearing one. "I know you people in this Anti-American state can't understand that, but I'm proud of my country." It wasn't entirely clear whether he was scolding the Bay Area for real or spoofing the recent rhetoric (though we were guessing the former). And then he amended, "...Especially this state. No on 8!" So we screamed ourselves silly while he started playing "California Stars" (lyrics, video). (EDIT: 8 is the appalling constitutional amendment on our ballot this year, trying to remove the rights of same-sex couples to marry. So Tweedy = win.) They also did "War on War," "Forget the Flowers" (<3), and a new one that I really liked, and if I find out what it's called once it's out, I'll mention. And he did another one I don't know, and said, "Take that, Norah." More on that came out later.

EDIT!: Got a note saying that the one they were feuding over was "Jesus Etc." from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, and (intriguingly) that the new one didn't have a name yet. Hmmm. Also, I gotta' say, they kinda' got the short stick in this entry--I really, really loved their set. We've got a couple of their albums, but other than Mermaid Avenue (which was them with Billy Bragg doing Woody Guthrie stuff), which I do love, I didn't really know any of their music, hadn't pursued it. I'd heard California Stars in the car on the way to the concert, and I enjoyed it a lot, but I'm going to have to start listening to them more, now. They absolutely won me over. (Seeing people live can be the very thing.) The new untitled song they did was actually what pushed me over from enjoying my night to having a blast, and I was probably bugging my blanket mates by dancing pretty wildly in place. And singing along. (What? I sing along to songs I don't know. And I'm good at it.) It had a kind of.. almost early Beatles-ish sensibility, but with this great drive and momentum and menace. WE WANTS IT, PRECIOUS.

They were followed by Sarah McLachlan.

I didn't know much Sarah McLachlan, but I hoped she'd do Adia (one of my absolute favorite songs), Better than Ice Cream, and Angel (all of which she did--plus Building a Mystery, two brand new ones, and a few more I didn't know but that were good--one is "World on Fire"). She called for a singalong to Better Than Ice Cream, and I was the only one near me who joined in (Come on, people! SING, DAMNIT!). I wasn't looking to be impressed, but she was incredible--emotional and intense and sincere, and better--better--than in studio recordings. I was really wowed. She played solo, her own guitar and piano, with only occasion simplified changes in the piano for Adia. I have a whole lot more respect for her, now. (And, like I said before, she made me cry a whole lot.)

Norah Jones I sacrificed a lot of because I didn't think I'd safely be able to pick my way across hundreds of bodies in the dark on the lawn back to our spot, and I got scolded away from hanging around on walkways. But she was playing guitar and piano, and had a banjo player and an upright bass player (both women), and they did a really wonderful, funky set with some old, old covers. It was really cool, and I'm sorry I missed so much of it. I did catch enough to know she did "Sinkin' Soon" and "Sunrise." And I caught her explaining her feud with Wilco--she and hers had been planning to do their favorite Wilco song at the concert, and Wilco went ahead and did it themselves (hence "Take that, Norah!"). And she said, "But we've been practicing and practicing and practicing, so we're going to do it anyway." Afterwards she said, "Take that, Tweedy!" She got a lot of catcalls. She is really, really cute.

Jack Johnson was the same way as McLachlan--incredibly talented, clearly not suffering from being away from a studio, playing his own instruments, etc, and really, really mellow (he told us he hadn't played in a few months because he'd been with his kids, and that one of them peed on him yesterday--that, in fact, the jeans he was wearing still had pee on them). He got razzed by his pianist for that. They were all really excellent musicians, very together, very clean. It was absolutely lovely. He did my favorite of his, too, "Breakdown." (Lyrics, video.) He also did "Better When We're Together," "Banana Pancakes," "Times Like These," "Brushfire Fairytales," "Flake," "Go On," "Upside Down," "Mudfootball," and one more that might have been a Neil Young song, actually. He got a random big cheer, because the camera did a closeup of the soundhole on his guitar. There was one of the red white and blue drawn portraits of Obama's face.

And then Neil Young closed things off. (He got extra love for his "Hippies for Obama" pin.) He did "Lonesome Me," "Mother Earth," "The Needle and the Damage Done" (a favorite!!), "Heart of Gold" (ditto), "Old Man" (also ditto), and an amazing cover of the Beatles' "Day in the Life". Then everyone came out for "Comes a Time." I might be forgetting a couple, too.

Conclusions:
* A lot of these people are way better than I realized.
* Acoustic does fantastic by some normally non-acoustic people.
* I love hippie musicians.
* Mountainview wants to kill me.
* I love it anyway.

(If you're curious, this was last year's post.)

Mountain View, here we come!

2008-10-24T23:13:00.000-07:00

We're going to the Bridge School Concert, again, this year!

So what's that?

It's a concert whose proceeds go to the Bridge School, a school that works with severely disabled children. For $40, we can sit on the grass a mile away, but the screens and speakers are good, and it's an FT of music. The line up this time (since ZZ Top backed out, and Josh Groban and Smashing Pumpkins'll only be there Sunday) is this (copied from the Bridge School site):

• Neil Young
• Wilco
• Jack Johnson
• Death Cab for Cutie
• Norah Jones
• Cat Power
• Sarah McLachlan (Saturday only)
• Band of Horses (Saturday only)

Last year, the concert started mid-afternoon, and went until after 1 am. Neil Young and his wife, Tom Waits with the Kronos Quartet, My Morning Jacket, Jerry Lee Lewis, Regina Spektor, Tegan and Sara, Metallica, and John Mayer all played (and Eddie Vedder and Flea had backed out). Everyone did about a half dozen songs each, very little downtime, and it was really, really fantastic. So we're looking forward to this year much!

I'll let you know how it was when we get back. :)

Love!

Oh, please do this.. I'd do it for you...

2008-10-21T10:53:00.000-07:00

I love this game. My galpal Raechel and I started playing a version of this long distance through media mail. (There's an increasingly elaborate story about a goat in Mexico, my missing toes, and being framed for crimes that keeps developing every time we send a cheapy notebook back and forth. Good times.) So I about had a happy conniption when I saw this meme.

So:

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often or ever) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph in your blog and see what your friends come up with.

Love!

Chinese Guitar

2008-10-20T13:24:00.000-07:00

I've got a certain fascination with the apocalyptic. Urban decay, destruction of populations, reclamation by nature... Anything that suggests it has a hold on me. Neighborhoods in Detroit, where trees grow through abandoned houses, gardens gone feral... I tell my ficus, have always told it, stories about other ficus trees that grew so big and so strong that they pushed down walls and broke open rooves, stories about forests eating cities and birds nesting in office buildings. I tell it to help it grow.

This isn't necessarily healthy, but it's calming, in its way. When we're all gone, or much reduced, it'll all get on without us.

Is it horrible to be so soothed by these images? To take so much comfort in the quiet of them?

Models I've seen even say we couldn't actually reverse the path our planet is on--that we've passed tipping points, or that we'll at best be beyond all hope of return within a handful of years. The best we can hope for is to slow it down, soften the blow a little, but our hope as a species is fairly marginal, certainly here, certainly in the long term. I try not to get too alarmist about it, and I try to raise false hope, because being nihilist tends to put a damper on potentially-helpful action (models have been wrong before), but with every disaster, I feel like the planet has just had enough and is trying to shake us off. Wonder if maybe we should stop trying and let it. We overcame the carrying capacity, so now we have severe overpopulation, where hordes of people are just starving more slowly, starving longer, rather than perishing outright. Plagues knocked us back, and we came up with vaccines, or at least preventative care. All of our innovation "revolutions" that have saved so many individuals--none of whom I could have picked out to give back to the earth, none of whom I could deny this chance at living--have pushed us further and further beyond the point of hope as a species. Now we have wasting, slow, incurable things, stronger things, demons of easy momentum that have crept up so gently that we pretend we couldn't have known.

It's very strange to think about.

It's been coming up a lot, lately. Minor disasters (like the collapse of the American or World economy) have been a frequent topic around the homestead--what will we feed the cats on? Will we be able to stake out a piece of earth sufficient to feed us? How much rainwater could we collect, if irrigation fails, how much capacity do we need to be able to get through summer? Seeds?--but the larger ones, too, the looming unfathomable.

Strangely enough, getting to talk about it at the conference was very bracing. Most people don't want to think about it, so we don't get much chance, and maybe it just served to focus the attention. I'm not sure.

Everything else seems a little trivial, comparatively, I have to say. Saddling up and working, or even going to choir tonight, seem like strangely over-normal activities, so they're hard to comprehend just now. (Maybe it's a good sign that I'm at least keeping up with the more mindless activities, like doing memes.) But maybe I'm just tired.

I don't want it to happen. Of course I don't. But I feel... pretty good. Calm, and as prepared as I might be to give it a good try, and if I fail, then I made that good try.

I try to trick myself into thinking Chris and I have got a better chance than we might--we have some previous skill with growing food without petroleum, with making clothing, with salvaging old and ruined things into useful things, with living with very little, and I just have to work on making fire without Implements to get the basics covered. I even fancy myself having a better immune system, from not beating it back with antibiotics, not overwashing, courting minor illness for the sake of antibodies. But I know things are a lot more random than that. And what we have helps after the fall, not during.

Maybe other people make it and I don't. Maybe I make it, and others I love don't. Maybe everyone but the already disadvantaged do, as is often the case in disasters. Maybe no one makes it at all.

But at that point, I don't suppose anyone will much mind.

Hm.

I'm preempting Chris here and posting one of our songs from the most recent set we put together. It was too big to load on our soundclick page, because it's some six and a half minutes, but I got a file sharing account. It can be downloaded here: Paper Cats, "Chinese Guitar." It's for one of these kinds of images, and it's very sweet and gentle. Chris wrote the guitar part, and I started humming an old kind of melody over it. He asked for the image, and I wrote him the lyrics for it, with a little input. That's my flute in the beginning, trying to sound much older than it actually is (...come to think, it's actually 16 or 17 years old, but that's still not much). And it's his Chinese-made Ibanez arch-top, Rosebud, playing the lead.

Here are the lyrics.

I've still got this old Chinese guitar
from the days long, long before
the breakers all gave, and swept all away
the ways of long before

Oh, a chinese guitar
my old chinese guitar.

I sat alone on a cliff 'bove the waves
'til the day that you found me
I was play'n' something old, something sweet, something low,
looking down over the sea

past my chinese guitar
my old chinese guitar.

You had this banged up old flute in your hand
And said, "Who could ask for more?
She's tired but she's fine, and the sound's pretty full
though she sticks at six and four

Maybe she'd sing with your guitar
with your old chinese guitar."

"Old man," I said, "you sure come a long way,
'cause I ha'n't seen you before.
Been watching for years, but what else would I do?
Been waiting by this shore,

with my chinese guitar.
Playing chinese guitar."

So I took you down where the town used to be
and we found an old lawnchair
Put it up next to mine 'neath that sweet twisting tree
with shade for us to share

(Bridge)

Now we play up here, to the sea, to the birds,
but I don't think they much listen
But maybe there's someone else out there somewhere
with a nine-string mandolin

who'll hear my old guitar
my old chinese guitar.

See, I've still got this old Chinese guitar
From the days long before
The wood's cherry red, there's a dent in the side,
but the sound carries pretty far...

(Bridge)

(Pretty picture of a tree growing through the rotted paper of an abandoned book depository.)

Love.

Meme-down.

2008-10-20T13:05:00.000-07:00

Now with more self-promotion! (Yes, there is an upload of *us* doing a song, crazy times, people.)

I forgot to point out that at the time of last night's posting, we'd been up and moving for 24 hours, on three hours bad sleep. Our flight left Pittsburgh 6 am EDT, so we had to leave the hotel at 4 am EDT, so we were going to wake up at 3:30 am EDT. Except neither of us slept well, and after going to bed at midnight, we woke up at more like 2:40 am. That is, we got up at 11:40 pm the night before, California time.

One decent night's sleep was not adequate to fix that. But at least it's a start. I can at least, now, meme.

Put the iPod/iTunes/whatever on random, and answer these questions in order with the titles of the songs that come up.

I did this twice, so I'm adding a couple from the second time around if they were fun, too. Trying to give you most of the youtube links, at least, and (as I said) one real live download.

1. IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY?" YOU SAY? "Somewhere, A Place for Us," Tom Waits. (..Hm.)
Alt: "Send in the Clowns," Judy Collins
 2. HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF? "Entr'Acte," Cabaret. (Heeeee, okay, I really like that.)
Alt: "Loser," Beck (as part of "The Alternative Polka," Weird Al Yancovic) - both fun.
 3. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL? "Come on, Eileen," Dexy's Midnight Runners. (Not sure what that even means. "You in that dress" is fun.)
 4. HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY? "Friday Night," Lily Allen. (Actually, I guess this works--I still feel the weekend.)
Alt: "I Love L.A.," Randy Newman - which is actually perfect, too--I'm so disoriented I don't know where I am.  
5. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE? "Hallelujah," Jeff Buckley. (?)
 6. WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO? "Listen to the Band," Meredith Ochs (but I linked the original Monkees).
(!!! This is actually true! This song is something I've clung to since I was about 13.)
 7. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU? "24," Jem. (But.. but I'm 25.)
Alt: "She's Electric," Oasis (Yay!)
 8. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU? "Michigan Blackhawk," the Monkees. (Is that like a black sheep?)
Alt: "Natural One," Folk Implosion (Awesome.)
 9. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT OFTEN? "Straight Shooter," the Mamas and the Papas. (..okay, I don't drink *that* much.)
 10. WHAT IS 2 + 2? "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." (I love this question. Why couldn't "24" have come up for this one?)  
11. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND? "Dreams," Fleetwood Mac
 12. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE? "Step Into My Office, Baby," Belle and Sebastian. (I don't use acronyms online. If I did, I would say LOL! OMFG!)
 13. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY? "Ben," Michael Jackson and the Jackson 5. (That's... really pathetic. ::cries:: )  
14. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP? "Take on Me," the A-Has. (Not sure what that means.)
Alt: "Jealous Guy," Youssou N'Dour (but linked John Lennon) (Ooooh, kinky)
 15. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE? "Little Boxes," Malvina Reynolds (with the opener to Weeds, since it's all I could find). (This doesn't work, either.)
  16. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING? "Nobody in Town Can Bake a Sweet Jelly Roll Like Mine," Bessie Smith (Dirty. <3) href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tHAhnJbGy9M">"On the Radio," Regina Spektor (That would be fantastic. I sang this song all the time, in Pittsburgh, and it was wonderful live.)
 17. WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL? "Sheep Go to Heaven (Goats Go to Hell)," Cake (I SWEAR TO THE MOOSE.)
 18. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS? "Like the Weather," 10,000 Maniacs
Alt: "Honey, Honey," ABBA (That's more like it!)  
19. WHAT IS YOUR SECRET VICE? "Purple People Eater" Sheb Wooley (Yay, eating people!) (...this was the least typo'd video I could find that had the right version of the song.)
 20. WHAT DOES THIS MEME MEAN TO YOU? "It's a Small World," Paper Cats Okay, I think this is genius, and I even uploaded the file. We performed at a staff picnic on campus that was themed "it's a small world," last year, and thought, it would be fucking funny to sing that song, but in such a way that no one knew what it was at first. Hoping for that perfect groan moment, you know? And also so it wouldn't eat their brains for the rest of the day. And I think it's actually very pretty. Pretty enough to share. First verse Spanish, first chorus French, then to English.

Alt: "Dig It," from Holes. (...I really love this, too, actually. <3>

Update:

2008-10-19T23:51:00.000-07:00

1) Back home safe and sound. Exhausted, but generally good.
2) I love Pittsburgh.
3) I love academics. Kind of like how I love politics. ...Pretty much just like that, actually. Further: Academic conferences follow the same general rules of behavior as online fan communities do, only with less hugging (unless I'm involved), and more--yes, more--wankery. Perhaps more on this later. They're also like Stealer's Wheel's "Stuck in the Middle With You," at least if you're prone to social anxiety and taking open bars up on their offers.
4) I got to meet Chris's oldest friend, Bob--34 years worth--and re-meet one of his best friends from grad school, Dave. And it was really, really fucking nice. I had a fantastic time. (Maybe more on this, too.) I've been facebook bingeing and blog-trawling for most of the night,* actually, since that, broken up only by fitful naps I didn't mean to take and consequent nightmares, and a compulsive playing and re-playing of an IQ-y brain game. And wine.
5) I got to meet an online Hockey Friend, and that was fantastic, too! When we saw the game with Dave, we met up with her first, and I got to get my fangirl-meets-actual-sport-interest on, which was great. It was a good game, despite the loss, and I have a face/voice to put to the blog!
6) Between the flights (San Jose -> Atlanta -> Pittsburgh and back the same route) and the conference sessions (wherein I need to run interference to keep my brain roughly on the task at hand), I knit a long, wide, ribbed scarf for an xmas present, drew two sketches of scenes in Pittsburgh (one w/ Mellon arena and conference-goer's silhouettes I'm actually quite pleased with, for what it is--may post this), scribbled on things I'm writing/plotted, and read a novel. Consequently, I felt very productive, and seem to have sustained a minor shoulder injury from the above abuse (as they were performed in very cramped quarters, and I am me). Also, speaking of Chris's college pals: the book was "Minotaur Takes a Cigarette Break," by Steve Sherrill, and it filled me with this sad, diffuse warmth. It was really lovely.

Overall, I have a sense of health and thriving, despite the bone-deep tired.

So goodnight, and LOVE.

*Bob's blog turned up this quote from The Long Emergency and it'll give you a sense of the way conversation went while we were there, but it's also gorgeous, and strangely soothing in the face of collapse, so I had to repost it:

If it happens that the human race doesn't make it [through the Long Emergency], then the fact that we were here once will not be altered, that once upon a time we peopled this astonishing blue planet, and wondered intelligently at everything about it and the other things who lived here with us on it, and that we celebrated the beauty of it in music and art, architecture, literature, and dance, and that there were times when we approached something godlike in our abilities and aspirations. We emerged out of a depthless mystery, and back into mystery we returned, and in the end the mystery is all there is.

Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you, oo-oo-oo

2008-10-10T10:05:00.001-07:00

To paraphrase Greenspan: As goes California, so goes the nation, bitches! Could you guess that the part he didn't say was "bitches?"

So Connecticut has joined my illustrious motherland in overturning its ban on gay marriage.

Can we get a domino effect on this, please?

(Now CA just needs to crush Prop 8--proposed constitutional amendment "hereby defining marriage in the state of California as between one man and one woman." It won't stop any other state from trying to write over their own decisions with their own ballot measures, but it'd sure be a discouraging start!)

A Precious Right

2008-10-09T00:29:00.000-07:00

I'll post this back up at the beginning of November, I'm sure, but for now I'm just so happy I managed to capture it on my little iSight camera.

Brief closer to a 1950's game show, one night.

(...yes, we've been watching a lot of What's My Line?, DVRd from the Game Show Network. It's... really sweet, actually.)

Well, I can't stop now...

2008-10-07T18:00:00.001-07:00

I thought this was supposed to be Economics, tonight? We have to listen to Questions From the Gallery?

...This is going to diminish the ability for a successful drinking game. However, the need will probably arise more than before. So, anyway, here's a short set.

DRINK:

Candidates
*Any time the phrase "Main Street" is used.
*If Keating Five comes up (Kudos, Obama, for finally mentioning it!)
*If Ayers or the Weathermen come up.
*Any time McCain says "Miss Congeniality" or "Maverick."
*Any time McCain actually looks at Obama.

EDIT: The audience questions are bust, they've all been vetted. Still drink for "What are you going to do for me?" But here're a few added ones:

McCain mentioning suspending his campaign.
If any candidate shakes the hand of a questioner during the course of an answer.
If a candidate asks a questioner a question.
Any outright lies.

EDIT: Oh, good, John, that's true. You HAVE voted against a lot of spending. Including spending on the veterans and troops you support so much. Things like body armor.

E2: I love Obama's "Are you fucking kidding me?" look in response to McCain's OUTRIGHT LIES ABOUT HIS TAX PLANS. McCain, I have insurance--it's better than what I could get with a $5000 tax credit if the insurance was cut. And I don't have kids. LEAVE ME ALONE.

E3: HANDSHAKE! I win!

I can think of a better reason.

2008-10-03T09:52:00.001-07:00

Okay, Time author. Your description of woman-on-woman hate was pretty funny. But I could barely have managed to be more disappointed by this article. (Why Some Women Hate Sarah Palin)

I actually love that she's attractive, and confident. If I knew nothing about her politics, I'd think she was adorable. I still kind of do. Embarrassment isn't really an issue, either. A small part of me actually deeply loves Sarah Palin.

So you know what? It really is just a matter of hating on the policies.

Oh, it takes other forms out of a kind of defensiveness. There might even be a degree of repressed misogyny in the way I want to get into a dogfight-cum-grudgefuck with her. But then again, maybe it's just the way my brain, overloaded with anger and insult, is choosing to combine "she's attractive, confident, and with the potential for fragility underneath" with "that's the most appalling set of politics I've come across in a long time." Plus, me = dog.

I respect approximately two things she's ever done. I'm all in on closing loopholes on oil company tax policy, for instance.

...okay, one thing she's done.

Otherwise? She's a menace on just about every issue I hold dear. And even on ones about which I just have Views. I don't think I even have to get into that, here, do I? (Though, Times author, I was impressed with the way in which you so readily dismissed the impact of actual politics on my political views! Well done!) Now I will admit that I am insulted, too, and that that's probably ramping up the level of disdain--the choice to appoint her as running mate was a pretty weak pander. If there wasn't the buzz (hopefully overblown) about displaced Hillary supporters looking to McCain, would he have chosen her? There would have been plenty of other options for people who would have roused the Base for him. Although I suppose choosing a woman with anything that actually looks like a record of defending women's rights wouldn't have worked in McCain's favor with said Base. In the end, she's the political equivalent of a trophy wife, and that really doesn't do anything to resonate with my feminism.

And now supposing she did become leader of the nation. The executive record she suggests is so important is terrifying. It's full of grudges being played out in politics, friendships being the primary decider on who gets what post (as opposed to competence), general corruption and calculated secrecy checked against legal loopholes--in short, a good replica of the Bush White House. That's not something I'm looking forward to repeating.

And as for competence: I understand that she's having to do a lot of learning very quickly, and she's making leaps. I can forgive misspeaking, and I thought she did very well in the debate, especially compared to Everything Else She's Said So Far. But while experience isn't the be all and end all for me, having a solid grasp of the political situations around you is pretty fucking crucial. Demonstrating a capacity to think critically about them--and to not rely on (more Bush-esque ploys) appealing to "the American people's common sense" or "common values" or anything else that is a stand in in today's rhetoric for Not Actually Thinking--is pretty fucking crucial.

So, while I'm delighted at your attempt to dumb down my political feelings to that classic Petty Woman-y Getting-My-Hate-On, I think in the end that--in this case-I'm still going to want to "just elect a man" into office, "like we've always done." You know, the man with the policies I support, the most similar sense of values, the capacity to improve our country's standing in the view of the rest of the world, the ability to potentially inspire us to live up to higher standards rather than down to pettiness and populism-for-its-own-sake, the one with better record on women's issues...

On second thought, you must be right. My girly anger machine must just be getting in the way of my ability to be loyal to the sex, and look past how perfect she is to the leader underneath. I just hate her because she's pretty.

So there's a VP debate, tonight...

2008-10-02T16:09:00.000-07:00

I know it's Thursday. And don't think that by my doing this I mean to suggest that the whole thing is risible--I certainly didn't mean that last time. It's really just a way of expressing frustration/snark with the rhetoric in a way that doesn't necessarily result in wallowing/hair-tearing, and provides a road to soothe said frustration at that.

That said, here's another drinking game.

See, I think the problem with the debate game for the last time was that I'd been thinking of it in terms of two separate speeches, as opposed to a debate. It's hard not to. That may be a problem with this set of rules, too, but I'm hoping I'll have gotten a little closer.

DRINK:

Any time Biden mixes a metaphor--big drink if there are at least three things that don't go together in the sentence.

Any time Palin uses job interview level stalling tactics (e.g. "In what way?" "That's a good question..." "That's a very important question." "You know, I've been thinking about that a lot..." "Excuse me, could you repeat the question?") or defers from answering a question entirely.

Any time either of them says something unequivocally, factually false.

If either of them says flat out, "That is a lie."

Any time either of them uses an insultingly cliche aphorism or a painfully folksy metaphor.

If Biden slams his fist on the podium or extends it for emphasis, or if Palin raises her arm and points very high.

If Biden says something that could be (fairly or unfairly) construed as sexist, or Palin says something that could be (fairly or unfairly) construed as racist.

If Palin uses the phrases "tax and spend" or "cut and run, or Biden uses the phrases "four more years" or "out of touch."

If Palin suggests Obama doesn't have enough experience. If Biden suggests Palin HAS enough experience (extra points if it's backhanded--e.g. refers to her history of croneyism, jingoist rhetoric, or excessive secrecy in comparison to behavior of Cheney or Bush).

Any time the following phrases are used: "What ______ doesn't seem to understand..." "Bridge to Nowhere," "pork barrel," "pet project," "your tax dollars," "irresponsible spending," "Main Street," "Corporate Welfare," "Socialized _____," "what America needs."

...Besides, when there's pineapple in the house, there needs to be an excuse for Piña Coladas.

EDIT: Wish I'd mentioned referencing the suspension of McCain's campaign, the "woman in Kansas" story, and "bringing people to the table"/"bipartisan efforts." And excessive references to Alaska--that one I'd intended to and left out. EDIT again: "Gosh darn it," "doggone it"...

And I'm actually drinking something called a Mixed Metaphor, instead of a boat drink. Chris suggested I make one up--it's vanilla vodka, pastis (like absinthe or an anisette), and lemon/lime.

EDIT 2: "referred to raping the outer coast" -- Hey, Sarah, what about your stance on how to treat rape victims?
And she didn't have her "noo-klee-ur" phonetic card.

EDIT 3: Gwen Ifill, oh my God, you actually asked a hot-button issue. I love you.

EDIT 4: Sarah Palin doesn't understand that "two state policy" means giving Palestine its own country. I think she thought that meant multinational effort. (I'm nearly certain of this.)

EDIT 5: From my mother: "She's Dolores Umbridge. She's smarmy and she's scary--she's Dolores Umbridge."

EDIT 6: I'm sorry, Palin, as far as emotional impact and pulling on heartstrings are concerned, that answer had nothing on "my wife and daughter are dead and I had to take care of my children alone." (Me = kinda' crying a little.)

McCain's support of troops and veterans.

2008-10-02T10:49:00.000-07:00

His most unimpeachable stance, right? How could a veteran--a POW--be anything but sympathetic and supportive? Especially after this statement during the first debate:

"I know the veterans, I know them well, and I know that they know that I'll take care of them, and I have been proud of their support and their recognition of my service to the veterans, and I love them, and I'll take care of them, and they know that I'll take care of them."

..and his suggestion that if he started a spending freeze, it would cover everything *but* defense and veterans' programs.

Well, non-partisan veterans' groups are looking at this claim of support. It apparently upset a lot of troops and vets.

So someone compiled a thorough list for his voting record and statements on troops and vets issues.

Please look at that. Even if it's not your hot-button issue. Even if you just skim it. It's pretty incredible.

Debate Drinking Game!

2008-09-26T18:00:00.000-07:00

I had to do it. Coming in just under the wire, a Presidential Debate Drinking Game! Pretty simple, but it should hold for these debates. Let me know if you actually do it, eh? I'm pausing it on DVR so I have a little more time to get set up, here.

DRINK:

Any time McCain mentions his time as a POW.
Any time McCain uses the phrase "brave Americans" to refer to troops.

Any time Obama refers to McCain as "my esteemed ____" or "my respected_____".
Any time Obama mentions his father, or his (white) grandmother. (Take a big slug if he mentions them both in the same sentence.)
Any time Obama uses the word "dreams."

Any use of the phrase "9/11"

If McCain accuses Obama's tax plan of raising taxes "on Americans."
If Obama mentions the "Bush economy."*
If Obama brings up McCain's comments about $5 mil being rich or not remembering how many houses he owns.
If McCain brings up Obama's sex-ed bill.

Any "I met a woman in Kansas..." kind of story. Take a good slug if it involves dying of cancer or losing a house.

If Obama calls McCain "out of touch" or McCain calls Obama "elitist."
If either candidate accuses the other of "socializing" anything.* (Extra drink if he follows it with the phrase "on our backs" or "on the backs of _____ Americans.")

Any time anyone mentions Palin.*

Any time McCain contends Palin has as much (or more) relevant experience as (/than) Obama.

Any time an animal is mentioned, whether referring to a literal animal or as a metaphor.
Any incredibly folksy metaphor is used.
Drink twice if anyone uses an obscenity or loses their temper.

Any time Jim Lehrer refers to "Main Street."*

Special bonus drink for the incredible disappearing scandal: If Jim Lehrer asks about John McCain's involvement in the Keating Five scandal, finish your drink and get a new one.*

Enjoy!

*Contributed by my lovely Chris.