Philadelphia is in the middle of a nasty budget crunch. It's not pretty. Rec centers and a few libraries are closing. People are upset.
Closing a library is always a bad idea. Always.
But I am sick to death of listening to people on the radio pleading, "Don't close our lie-berries!"
For the love of the baby jeebus, learn to fucking pronounce the word "library". It makes me think that Philadelphia doesn't need libraries but speech therapy.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Christmas Plans
Sunday morning (the same day as the ice storm) I awoke with a strong desire to drink fruity, pink wine on Christmas day. Not great wine, cheap wine. I'm not paying more than $5. And it should be strawberry. Yeah. Fantastic.
I know, you're thinking that's disgusting. I know Jenny and Clare like wine. But I'm really not that great a drinker. I don't like strong alcohol. And I really like the booze that tastes like candy. Call it an unsophisticated pallet, but I like what I like.
So I went to the state store to by the above described pink wine. One bottle was $3.99, the other $4. 99. Perfect.
However, I was sorely tempted by the Elvis Blue Christmas wine, $19.99 a bottle. Fortunately, I was able to resist.
I know, you're thinking that's disgusting. I know Jenny and Clare like wine. But I'm really not that great a drinker. I don't like strong alcohol. And I really like the booze that tastes like candy. Call it an unsophisticated pallet, but I like what I like.
So I went to the state store to by the above described pink wine. One bottle was $3.99, the other $4. 99. Perfect.
However, I was sorely tempted by the Elvis Blue Christmas wine, $19.99 a bottle. Fortunately, I was able to resist.
Hrothgar and the Ice Storm
Sunday mornign we had a minor ice storm. Nothing terrible but just bad enough to make you glad it was Sunday morning and not Monday morning. Hrothgar, however, was determined to go outside on the back porch.
He pleaded.
He whined.
He pawed at the back door.
He made a pest of himself, generally.
After hours of this, I was ready to relent. "Fine. You'll see its horrible out."
Andy said no. If we let him out in the ice storm, he'd gain some super power and be like a Frost Giant or worse. I feared an ice armor clad battle cat napping on my couch. Nope. Hrothgar can not go out in an ice storm.
He pleaded.
He whined.
He pawed at the back door.
He made a pest of himself, generally.
After hours of this, I was ready to relent. "Fine. You'll see its horrible out."
Andy said no. If we let him out in the ice storm, he'd gain some super power and be like a Frost Giant or worse. I feared an ice armor clad battle cat napping on my couch. Nope. Hrothgar can not go out in an ice storm.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Sad Shopping
The other night I went to my favorite store, Lane Bryant, for undies and such. It was so sad! The mall, first off, was nearly empty. The store itself was empty. Physically as well as with shoppers. The clerk told me I was the first costumer since lunch. Sad. And there wasn't the same amount of merchandise on the floor, giving it an empty feeling.
Blogging from the Benefits Bank
Hey. I'm stuck at this training this morning, listening to the presenter go on about various benefits, like food stamps, PACE, LIHEAP. Basically, things I already know.
So they want me at work to use this software to determine is people are eligible for benefits. Hmm. I can read the instructions on an application form and use to a calculator to figure that out. If the software completes the actual applications, then I can print them out, THAT would be nifty.
I'm still on the fence if this training is a waste of time or not. On the bright side, they do have free wifi.
So they want me at work to use this software to determine is people are eligible for benefits. Hmm. I can read the instructions on an application form and use to a calculator to figure that out. If the software completes the actual applications, then I can print them out, THAT would be nifty.
I'm still on the fence if this training is a waste of time or not. On the bright side, they do have free wifi.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Catch up reading
Today I will catch up on my reading of everyone's Nano stories. I've read the first two chapters of Clare's Kali. And I read the first five of Jenny's. ANd I like them both. :)
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
nanowrimo 08
National Novel Writing Month 2008
The Road Two – An extraordinary Sequel
By Melissa Hensley and Jennifer Mathis (mostly by Jenny this year).
The Great Space Ship Robbery
It was a cunning plan. A plan so fraught with cunning it was beyond mere hyperbole and was literally the most cunning plan in the world.
"I prefer to think of it as a cunning dog positively rabid with cunning," Turkish said.
"It's a stupid plan," Portia said.
"Fine. Spoil my fun"
Portia fidgeted with her parasol. The lights framing the view screen cast a warm amber glow, tinting her hands and clothing in a vaguely jaundiced light. "Is this wool?"
Turkish ignored Portia and pointed to a distant point on the view screen. "There she is."
"It's itchy."
"She's a grand ship."
"I told you wool makes me itchy." Portia scratched her upper arm. There her shoulder.
"I don't know what the material is. Larissa gave me the fabric."
"You told her no wool, right? Because she's got a stockpile of the stuff she's been trying to get ride of for twenty years."
"We'll get you a new dress on the ship, all right?"
Strangely, this appeased Portia and the itchy became tolerable. "I just can't think when there's a spot in the middle of my shoulder blades that I can't reach," she said.
Turkish dutifully scratched the spot in the middle of her shoulder blades. Someone to scratch the hard to reach itches was simply the best part of having a significant other.
"Thank you. But it's still a stupid plan."
"No. It's an outlandish plan. There's a difference."
A large luxury star cruiser slowly filled the view screen.
The Road Two – An extraordinary Sequel
By Melissa Hensley and Jennifer Mathis (mostly by Jenny this year).
The Great Space Ship Robbery
It was a cunning plan. A plan so fraught with cunning it was beyond mere hyperbole and was literally the most cunning plan in the world.
"I prefer to think of it as a cunning dog positively rabid with cunning," Turkish said.
"It's a stupid plan," Portia said.
"Fine. Spoil my fun"
Portia fidgeted with her parasol. The lights framing the view screen cast a warm amber glow, tinting her hands and clothing in a vaguely jaundiced light. "Is this wool?"
Turkish ignored Portia and pointed to a distant point on the view screen. "There she is."
"It's itchy."
"She's a grand ship."
"I told you wool makes me itchy." Portia scratched her upper arm. There her shoulder.
"I don't know what the material is. Larissa gave me the fabric."
"You told her no wool, right? Because she's got a stockpile of the stuff she's been trying to get ride of for twenty years."
"We'll get you a new dress on the ship, all right?"
Strangely, this appeased Portia and the itchy became tolerable. "I just can't think when there's a spot in the middle of my shoulder blades that I can't reach," she said.
Turkish dutifully scratched the spot in the middle of her shoulder blades. Someone to scratch the hard to reach itches was simply the best part of having a significant other.
"Thank you. But it's still a stupid plan."
"No. It's an outlandish plan. There's a difference."
A large luxury star cruiser slowly filled the view screen.
Technical delays
OK. I copied and pasted my story into blogger, same as always, and I keep getting an HTML error. What?! Class is about to start in five minutes. I figure out how to post this when i get home.
Ammendment: Got it to publish to the blog, not the Lab, though. Oh well.
Ammendment: Got it to publish to the blog, not the Lab, though. Oh well.
Finally! A post
So, my word count in around 250. Pathetic. And I finally posted it to the lab.
I want to try to write some more on Thanksgiving day. I have designated it as a "goof off" day. After that, three more weeks of school, three more papers and a final and I'm done! Until January. Still. I'm so close to the end. My eyes hurt from lack of sleep and I'm tired all the time and constant stress has given me around-the-clock heart burn. I'm chewing zantac like its candy.
I can not wait until this semester is over.
I want to try to write some more on Thanksgiving day. I have designated it as a "goof off" day. After that, three more weeks of school, three more papers and a final and I'm done! Until January. Still. I'm so close to the end. My eyes hurt from lack of sleep and I'm tired all the time and constant stress has given me around-the-clock heart burn. I'm chewing zantac like its candy.
I can not wait until this semester is over.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Friday, October 31, 2008
The Perfect Story Idea
It's Halloween, two hours before Nanowrimo officially starts and I've had half a beer.
The gang watched the Incredible Hulk. Not a terrible movie. Not a good movie, either. Too much Ed Norton makin' googie eyes at Liv Tyler and not enough Hulk smashing.
At the end of the evening, someone made a snarky comment about Ang Lee and Sense and Sensibility.
"Yeah, Jane Austen moviea needed more robots from the future," I said.
Del was flabergasted. I've had half a beer, after all. "What?"
"Oh, you haven't read the book. In the book the sisters are really robots from the future who solve crimes."
"Sense and Sensibility with robots from the future."
"Yes."
"Are there zombies in it?" Derek asked.
"Willowby is a zombie. He was only after Mariane's brains."
"I would love to see that movie."
And it occurs to me, I must write Sense and Sensibility with crime solvin', zombie huntin' robots from the future. Awesome.
Half a beer, like I said. I'm a lightweight.
The gang watched the Incredible Hulk. Not a terrible movie. Not a good movie, either. Too much Ed Norton makin' googie eyes at Liv Tyler and not enough Hulk smashing.
At the end of the evening, someone made a snarky comment about Ang Lee and Sense and Sensibility.
"Yeah, Jane Austen moviea needed more robots from the future," I said.
Del was flabergasted. I've had half a beer, after all. "What?"
"Oh, you haven't read the book. In the book the sisters are really robots from the future who solve crimes."
"Sense and Sensibility with robots from the future."
"Yes."
"Are there zombies in it?" Derek asked.
"Willowby is a zombie. He was only after Mariane's brains."
"I would love to see that movie."
And it occurs to me, I must write Sense and Sensibility with crime solvin', zombie huntin' robots from the future. Awesome.
Half a beer, like I said. I'm a lightweight.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Pumpkin Hair
This morning was wet and rainy and windy and otherwise miserable. As I trudged into work, I pulled my backpack on wheels in one hand, my other hand was desperately trying to hold my pumpkin spice latte and hold my hood on top of my head to protect my delicate self from the rain. It was precarious. My coffee spilled and the wind picked it up, splashing it into my face and hair. On the down side, my hair dried into stiff strand like the hair gel gag from "There's Something About Mary" and I did have a brush. On the bright side, I smelled pleasantly like pumpkin spice all day.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
My very own business cards!
After six years, I have my own business cards with my name printed on them! My very own cards! I can not begin to express how tickled I am.
Now I want a fancy schmancy card case, something nicer than the tatty little vinyl case I've been carrying around.
Mel
Now I want a fancy schmancy card case, something nicer than the tatty little vinyl case I've been carrying around.
Mel
Saturday, October 18, 2008
RIP
I have sad news. The Jolly Roger is no more. He has ceased to be. He has gone to Davy Jones' Locker.
His mother board finally went. The poor guy.
I can't complain. We had four years of pretty intense work from him without so much as a hiccup or crash or virus until recently.
I'm working on a new machine. The amazing Miss Verve will be helping. I'll take suggestions on a new name, though. I kind of want to stick to the pirate theme. Queen Anne's Revenge? Mr. Teach? I dunno.
His mother board finally went. The poor guy.
I can't complain. We had four years of pretty intense work from him without so much as a hiccup or crash or virus until recently.
I'm working on a new machine. The amazing Miss Verve will be helping. I'll take suggestions on a new name, though. I kind of want to stick to the pirate theme. Queen Anne's Revenge? Mr. Teach? I dunno.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Obama
Tomorrow Barack Obama will hold a rally in Vernon Park, which is basically the backyard to my office. It's been an exciting day. The Secret Service has the park barricaded off. No one is allowed into the park. Which is kind of funny, because the residents of my building cut through the park rather than walk around the block. I actually saw Mrs. X (name protected) arguing to get into the park because she has a walker and there is no way she going to walk around the block! The Secret Service agent just kind of laughed and let her past the barricade.
Tomorrow the streets around the park will be blocked off. Basically, if I want to go to th rally, I'll have to camp out here overnight.
Tomorrow the streets around the park will be blocked off. Basically, if I want to go to th rally, I'll have to camp out here overnight.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
It's October
The leaves are turning. There's a nip in the air. A warm, golden light bathes the trees and hilltops in the morning. It can only mean that Nanowrimo is just around the corner!
I will enter this year. But I will do an abbreviated version. Maybe a short story. I think writing anything non-academic this year will be a victory.
I will enter this year. But I will do an abbreviated version. Maybe a short story. I think writing anything non-academic this year will be a victory.
Out with a bang
I had a lot of updates to post but somehow never actually managed to open up the blog.
Last Sunday the power went out. It was kind of nice, sitting on the porch, watching the sun set. It was tranquil. Of course, after the sun went down, it was dark and we ended up going to bed and hour and a half early.
Monday I had a quiz in Research Methods. I'm pretty positive I got all the answer correct but I'll know for sure soon enough.
Tuesday I took off from work to tackle a paper. I ran a quick errand and on the way back from the grocery store, I got a flat tire. FOUR hours later, I was home with a new tire. Goodyear had $98 of my money and I managed not to write a single word on my essay. Good times.
Last Sunday the power went out. It was kind of nice, sitting on the porch, watching the sun set. It was tranquil. Of course, after the sun went down, it was dark and we ended up going to bed and hour and a half early.
Monday I had a quiz in Research Methods. I'm pretty positive I got all the answer correct but I'll know for sure soon enough.
Tuesday I took off from work to tackle a paper. I ran a quick errand and on the way back from the grocery store, I got a flat tire. FOUR hours later, I was home with a new tire. Goodyear had $98 of my money and I managed not to write a single word on my essay. Good times.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Sprain Update
I have almost full mobility and functioning in my right wrist. I can flex but still not rotate it.
Yesterday I mowed the lawn (because it was a jungle back there) and that aggravated my wrist. It was mistake.
Yesterday I mowed the lawn (because it was a jungle back there) and that aggravated my wrist. It was mistake.
My First Week of Classes
September 8 was my first full week of classes. In short it was:
Monday - class in the basement of Tuttleman. It's like a dungeon.
Tuesday - Rain and thundered all morning. The New Covenant (a gigantic 150 year old building that use to house a school for the deaf) was SPOOKY. It didn't help that there is no way to control the lights in the hall and auditorium. They are are timers. No matter how dark and spooky the weather is, you can not turn on the lights.
Wednesday - First day of my field placement. I was doing two things at once. Tough day.
Thursday - Back in the spooky building. Someone's two year old grandchild like to run and run and run and that upsets the downstairs neighbor.
Friday - Field placement again. Stayed late. Going to be a lot of those. Oh, a resident has accused me of stealing her clothes and fiddling with the dial on her radio. Right. I think everyone knows she is fibbing but it upset me.
Monday - class in the basement of Tuttleman. It's like a dungeon.
Tuesday - Rain and thundered all morning. The New Covenant (a gigantic 150 year old building that use to house a school for the deaf) was SPOOKY. It didn't help that there is no way to control the lights in the hall and auditorium. They are are timers. No matter how dark and spooky the weather is, you can not turn on the lights.
Wednesday - First day of my field placement. I was doing two things at once. Tough day.
Thursday - Back in the spooky building. Someone's two year old grandchild like to run and run and run and that upsets the downstairs neighbor.
Friday - Field placement again. Stayed late. Going to be a lot of those. Oh, a resident has accused me of stealing her clothes and fiddling with the dial on her radio. Right. I think everyone knows she is fibbing but it upset me.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Breaking News
Well, this morning my pain is down and I have more movement in my arms. Heck, typing is practically easy. However, the fingers on my right hand are swollen like little sausages and flexing them is difficult. The angry purple bruising on the palm of my hand is almost vanished but I still have this cheetah-spot pattern from the asphalt that will likely linger for a while.
Friday, August 29, 2008
You win again gravity!
This is a little embarrassing. Yesterday, at the car wash, whilst carrying the empty soda cans out of my car, I tripped and fell. Hard. On my wrist. There was that half second that seemed to hand on forever when I could feel myself about to fall over. And then I fell onto the asphalt. My knee and my my right hand stung immediately and then I realized that I could not actually get up. I just could not put any pressure on my hand.
By the time I got home I wa unable to use my hand for anything. I could move the fingers but not rotate my wrist of arm, or apply pressure. I took a tylenol and applied an ice pack. Two hours later with no improvement, Andy took the me to the hospital.
Taking x-rays was very difficult. I simply could not extend my arm to lay it flat. The technitian got frustrated, I think, and forced my arm in place, which caused me to scream and swear like a sailor. Not cool.
The good news is that I did not fracture my wrist. Hooray! I have a wrist sprain. The bad news is that it hurts like hell and there's nothing to do except take aspirin and rest. I was not thrilled to be told this. My arm hurt way too much to be a "sprain." The nurse wrapped my arm up in the bandage and put my arm in the sling. If I had a camera I'd share a sad picture of me with my arm in a sling, still in my pj's because I can not manage to raise my arm enough to get dress.
Today I feel better but I'm still in pain. I can move my fingers without pain (yes!) and can apply enough force to do simple things like open a can of soda. Last night I could not and then discovered that I was too tired to figure out how to open the can with my left hand. I can lift my arm but not extend it straight. I can not scratch my nose with my right hand, for example. Or brush my hair.
I also realized that while I am a Lefty, almost every daily task is down with my right hand. Which is frustrating.
My knee, however, is a festive shade of purple but does not hurt. Odd. Then again I have not been up and down a dozen staircases today. Given the chance, I'm sure it will smart.
All in all, I'm sore but fine. And I do look silly in the sling. Andy says I should get an eye patch. Not because I need it, just so I can pretend to be a pirate, which would make me feel better. :) I think he's right. Argh!
By the time I got home I wa unable to use my hand for anything. I could move the fingers but not rotate my wrist of arm, or apply pressure. I took a tylenol and applied an ice pack. Two hours later with no improvement, Andy took the me to the hospital.
Taking x-rays was very difficult. I simply could not extend my arm to lay it flat. The technitian got frustrated, I think, and forced my arm in place, which caused me to scream and swear like a sailor. Not cool.
The good news is that I did not fracture my wrist. Hooray! I have a wrist sprain. The bad news is that it hurts like hell and there's nothing to do except take aspirin and rest. I was not thrilled to be told this. My arm hurt way too much to be a "sprain." The nurse wrapped my arm up in the bandage and put my arm in the sling. If I had a camera I'd share a sad picture of me with my arm in a sling, still in my pj's because I can not manage to raise my arm enough to get dress.
Today I feel better but I'm still in pain. I can move my fingers without pain (yes!) and can apply enough force to do simple things like open a can of soda. Last night I could not and then discovered that I was too tired to figure out how to open the can with my left hand. I can lift my arm but not extend it straight. I can not scratch my nose with my right hand, for example. Or brush my hair.
I also realized that while I am a Lefty, almost every daily task is down with my right hand. Which is frustrating.
My knee, however, is a festive shade of purple but does not hurt. Odd. Then again I have not been up and down a dozen staircases today. Given the chance, I'm sure it will smart.
All in all, I'm sore but fine. And I do look silly in the sling. Andy says I should get an eye patch. Not because I need it, just so I can pretend to be a pirate, which would make me feel better. :) I think he's right. Argh!
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Wonder Who He Is
I've been scanning old photos from Center in the Park for a 40th anniversary project. Yesterday I found a treasure trove in the file room. My favorite photo so far is mysteriously labeled: Joe Brown, First Driver.
I assume Mr. Brown was the first bus driver for Center in the Park. Still, the photo is funky. People just do not wear leisure suits enough nowadays.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Home!
Home at last!
The best part of a long trip is coming home. Tuesday night in London I was way cranky and fed up with, "this tiny little island and its tiny little furniture and tiny little showers." Yeah, it was time to go home. Mostly I was tired to rank smelling clothes, damp towels and wearing the same funky smelling shoes for two weeks.
The plane landed 9 p.m. last night, two hours late. I didn't stress it. Although I did start to loose it when the parking garage at the Philly airport proved impossible to exit. All the exits were blocked. Amazingly. Signs would deceptively point to "exit" only to have giant orange barricades blocking the path. I'm glad Andy was driving. If it was me trying to get home after being up for 20 hours, I would probably start to cry with frustration. I was just a little too tired to have to solve a puzzle. (And I will add this to my "Philly is Unnecessarily Hostile" list.)
OK. Shower time. Then laundry. Maybe some grocery shopping. Maybe.
Jenny is updating her blog with the journal she kept during the trip. There you can read how witty and amusing I am. I'm planning on uploading photos and adding my commentary. I'll also share the wonders of the tiniest hotel room in London, with picture proving how small it was, sharing a hostel room with Jesus (or a reasonable facsimile of Jesus), how my camera broke, and getting blisters UNDER my calluses. It was an awesome trip! Oh, and Clare and Reuben's wedding, etc.
The best part of a long trip is coming home. Tuesday night in London I was way cranky and fed up with, "this tiny little island and its tiny little furniture and tiny little showers." Yeah, it was time to go home. Mostly I was tired to rank smelling clothes, damp towels and wearing the same funky smelling shoes for two weeks.
The plane landed 9 p.m. last night, two hours late. I didn't stress it. Although I did start to loose it when the parking garage at the Philly airport proved impossible to exit. All the exits were blocked. Amazingly. Signs would deceptively point to "exit" only to have giant orange barricades blocking the path. I'm glad Andy was driving. If it was me trying to get home after being up for 20 hours, I would probably start to cry with frustration. I was just a little too tired to have to solve a puzzle. (And I will add this to my "Philly is Unnecessarily Hostile" list.)
OK. Shower time. Then laundry. Maybe some grocery shopping. Maybe.
Jenny is updating her blog with the journal she kept during the trip. There you can read how witty and amusing I am. I'm planning on uploading photos and adding my commentary. I'll also share the wonders of the tiniest hotel room in London, with picture proving how small it was, sharing a hostel room with Jesus (or a reasonable facsimile of Jesus), how my camera broke, and getting blisters UNDER my calluses. It was an awesome trip! Oh, and Clare and Reuben's wedding, etc.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Birthday Girl
Today's my birthday and oddly, turning 32 is OK.
30 was horrible. Absolutely horrible. I just could not wrap my mind about being "that old". WHen anyone would mention my age, I quickly responded in a cry, "Shut up!"
31 was not any better. I'd watch the news and listen to reports about some creepy middle aged dude and then realize with horror that he was my age. (Shut up!)
32 is OK. Maybe it's because the numbers add up to be a prime or I've had two years of being in my thirties, but I've made peace with the idea.
I asked my mom if she had such a hard time turning thirty and she didn't not, but is having a rough patch with turning fifty this year. Grandma said that turning seventy was difficult for her.
My brother turns 30 next year. Soon I will not be the only one in the family adrift in this miserable decade.
30 was horrible. Absolutely horrible. I just could not wrap my mind about being "that old". WHen anyone would mention my age, I quickly responded in a cry, "Shut up!"
31 was not any better. I'd watch the news and listen to reports about some creepy middle aged dude and then realize with horror that he was my age. (Shut up!)
32 is OK. Maybe it's because the numbers add up to be a prime or I've had two years of being in my thirties, but I've made peace with the idea.
I asked my mom if she had such a hard time turning thirty and she didn't not, but is having a rough patch with turning fifty this year. Grandma said that turning seventy was difficult for her.
My brother turns 30 next year. Soon I will not be the only one in the family adrift in this miserable decade.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Book review time
I've always had a secret desire to do pithy reviews of books I hate and dissect the reasons those books failed. Alas, Liarbyrd's Pithy Book Reviews (as I referred to it in my head) has never gotten off the ground. I would like, however, to write a quick word about a book I truly enjoyed.
As my semester is over, I have free time on my hands. And my laptop went into the shop (bad mother board) I had no video games to fill my time. I decided to read a book. Shocking. So I went to the bookstore.
Knee deep in the sci-fi section, I was really disappointed with the lack of science fiction and the staggering amount of stupid vampire books. I hate, hate, hate vampire books. Especially this series. Ick. And this, which is mainly just the main character having lots of sex with a menagerie of mythical beings. It's not far from porn, actually.
I don't want to read about vampires or witches or quests in magical lands. I just want a nice, solid space opera. It was slim pickings for the space opera, alas.
So I strayed into main stream literature and found the Book of Air and Shadows, which was about a lost Shakespeare manuscript. Awesome. Except the author was obviously a man. Does is matter? Well, the novel was populated with an alarming number of beautiful women who all did the nasty with the main character about 20 pages after being introduced. Way too much boinking going on and not enough lost Shakespeare manuscript!
Orphans of Chaos, a sci-fi find, was enjoyable. But it skeeved me out how nearly every male character tried to rape the 16 year old main character (the grounds keeper, the headmaster, a fellow student). Dude, seriously. Enough! It was weird. No sex actually took place but not for a lack of trying. Creepy.
Finally, I read The Name of the Wind. Not only was this book really good, no parts were creepy, the main character was not boinking everything because the author was living out a fantasy, and I couldn't wait to pick it up again to continue reading. It's a bit like Harry Potter (orphan at school), Oliver (orphan living on the streets) and just really, really well written and interesting. All the characters are compelling. Yes, it is technically a fantasy novel but the exotic setting and magic (called Sympathy, which is more a mystical understanding of Newtonian physics than actually magic) take a back seat to the story. I devoured the 720 page monster in days days.
Did I love it? Hmm...no, but close. I think the last book I truly loved was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and that lasted me through the end of the decade. (Future post will have to be "books I love". It's a short list.)
The thing that kept me from loving the novel is the first 50 pages are set up and delay the actually beginning of the story. It's a bit like the very first scene in Taming of the Shrew, with all the pretensions of making a story for the drunk to trick him. Yeah, the first 50 pages set-up the main character telling his life story to a chronicler. We don't need this and it almost stopped me from continuing to read. Kvothe can just start telling his story. No need for the story within a story format. It's just lazy writing, in my opinion.
I can't wait to read the second volume.
As my semester is over, I have free time on my hands. And my laptop went into the shop (bad mother board) I had no video games to fill my time. I decided to read a book. Shocking. So I went to the bookstore.
Knee deep in the sci-fi section, I was really disappointed with the lack of science fiction and the staggering amount of stupid vampire books. I hate, hate, hate vampire books. Especially this series. Ick. And this, which is mainly just the main character having lots of sex with a menagerie of mythical beings. It's not far from porn, actually.
I don't want to read about vampires or witches or quests in magical lands. I just want a nice, solid space opera. It was slim pickings for the space opera, alas.
So I strayed into main stream literature and found the Book of Air and Shadows, which was about a lost Shakespeare manuscript. Awesome. Except the author was obviously a man. Does is matter? Well, the novel was populated with an alarming number of beautiful women who all did the nasty with the main character about 20 pages after being introduced. Way too much boinking going on and not enough lost Shakespeare manuscript!
Orphans of Chaos, a sci-fi find, was enjoyable. But it skeeved me out how nearly every male character tried to rape the 16 year old main character (the grounds keeper, the headmaster, a fellow student). Dude, seriously. Enough! It was weird. No sex actually took place but not for a lack of trying. Creepy.
Finally, I read The Name of the Wind. Not only was this book really good, no parts were creepy, the main character was not boinking everything because the author was living out a fantasy, and I couldn't wait to pick it up again to continue reading. It's a bit like Harry Potter (orphan at school), Oliver (orphan living on the streets) and just really, really well written and interesting. All the characters are compelling. Yes, it is technically a fantasy novel but the exotic setting and magic (called Sympathy, which is more a mystical understanding of Newtonian physics than actually magic) take a back seat to the story. I devoured the 720 page monster in days days.
Did I love it? Hmm...no, but close. I think the last book I truly loved was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and that lasted me through the end of the decade. (Future post will have to be "books I love". It's a short list.)
The thing that kept me from loving the novel is the first 50 pages are set up and delay the actually beginning of the story. It's a bit like the very first scene in Taming of the Shrew, with all the pretensions of making a story for the drunk to trick him. Yeah, the first 50 pages set-up the main character telling his life story to a chronicler. We don't need this and it almost stopped me from continuing to read. Kvothe can just start telling his story. No need for the story within a story format. It's just lazy writing, in my opinion.
I can't wait to read the second volume.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Beocat
(Modern English verse translation by the Editor's Cat)
from Henry Beard's Poetry for Cats
Brave Beocat, brood kit of Ecgthmeow,
Hearth-pet of Hrothgar, in whose high halls
He mauled without mercy many fat mice,
Night did not find napping nor snack-feasting.
The wary war-cat, whiskered paw-wielder,
Bearer of the burnished neck-belt, gold-braided collar-band,
Feller of fleas, fatal, too, to ticks,
The work of wonder-smiths, woven with witches' charms,
Sat on the throne-seat, his ears like sword-points
Upraised, sharp-tipped, listening for peril-sounds,
When he heard from the moor-hill howls of the hell-hound,
Gruesome hunger-grunts of Grendel's Great Dane,
Deadly doom-mutt, dread demon-dog.
Then boasted Beocat, noble battle-kitten,
Bane of barrow-bunnies, bold seeker of nest-booty,
"If hand of man unhasped the heavy hall-door
And freed me to frolic forth to fight the fang-bearing fiend,
I would lay the whelpling low with lethal claw-blows;
Fur would fly and the foe would taste death-food.
But resounding snooze-noise, stern slumber-thunder,
Nose-music of men snoring mead-hammered in the wine-hall,
Fills me with sorrow-feeling for Fate does not see fit
To send some fingered folk to lift the firm-fastened latch
That I might go grapple with the grim ghoul-pooch."
Thus spake the mouse-shredder, hunter of hall-pests,
Short-haired Hrodent-slayer, greatest of the pussy-Geats.
Monday, March 31, 2008
I'm not a doctor
Today I spent an hour trying to convince a client that his doctor did not give him Congestive Heart Failure when his blood pressure medication was changed.
He kept saying, "Even doctors make mistakes."
True. But he just couldn't understand that the blood pressure pills only manage CHF, not cure it.
He kept saying, "Even doctors make mistakes."
True. But he just couldn't understand that the blood pressure pills only manage CHF, not cure it.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Why I'm Still Angry at My Old Job
Ok, this is convoluted. I was a case manager for the FCSP program. My senior center has a contract with PCA (hereafter referred to as the devil) to deliver this program. For five years, I served two masters, the senior center and the devil.
Just before Christmas, we got wind of a rumor that the Devil was pulling the contract. It wasn't official, but a muckety-muck told my boss to "expect a letter". Just before Christmas. Assholes.
The letter said the Devil would closing FCSP at the various community sites and pulling the program to their headquarters in Center City. I would be given the opportunity to apply for my job.
And this is the first thing that really pissed me off. I would be "given the opportunity" to apply for my own job that's I'd done for five years.
The second thing that really made me furious was that last October another senior center with the program was closing. We were told by the Director that senior was only being closed because the senior center had fiscal problems. They had no intention of closing the other sites.
They lied to us.
They new last October and lied.
So would you want to work for these lying jerks? It's slightly more money, but I'd have to pay for parking and I'd lose all my rocking vacation time. Moreover, I would be a new employee on probation. I really like my job and my clients, but enough to work for the devil?
My senior center offered me another position, if I wanted to stay. I took their offer.
In January, my supervisor informed the Devil that neither myself nor Jule would transfer. We'd rather wash dishes at the center than work them, but she probably phrased it better.
January 31, I'm still working in the old program, trying to tie things up. I get a call from the Director. They've already hired someone for my position and she starts on Monday. Could I send over 25 cases for her?
And this is the thing that made me loose it.
They have no regard for my experience. They replaced me with someone who just graduated college and has no work experience. Our program is difficult and there's a high turnover rate because it's hard to find the right person for the job. I've been doing this for 5 years, so has Jule. We rock. We've been told by auditors that we are the best in the program, not to toot my own horn. It's so comforting to know that all my experience and quality work is so replaceable.
The worst was boxing up my cases. I kept thinking about this new chick and how it's was not right that she was getting all my cases and my hard work. I told my boss that I was justing "freaking resentful."
And I am resentful. For five years, I've worked in this program and the Devil has treated my badly the entire time, that's why it's the devil. I've had second hand computers, shoddy server connections, not been informed of policy changes until after they've happened, been ignored by technical support, and treated overall as an inferior. And yet, I've excelled. I've taken their poor resources and archaic computer programs and spun straw into gold. Fuck them.
But I still miss my old job and that's killing me.
Just before Christmas, we got wind of a rumor that the Devil was pulling the contract. It wasn't official, but a muckety-muck told my boss to "expect a letter". Just before Christmas. Assholes.
The letter said the Devil would closing FCSP at the various community sites and pulling the program to their headquarters in Center City. I would be given the opportunity to apply for my job.
And this is the first thing that really pissed me off. I would be "given the opportunity" to apply for my own job that's I'd done for five years.
The second thing that really made me furious was that last October another senior center with the program was closing. We were told by the Director that senior was only being closed because the senior center had fiscal problems. They had no intention of closing the other sites.
They lied to us.
They new last October and lied.
So would you want to work for these lying jerks? It's slightly more money, but I'd have to pay for parking and I'd lose all my rocking vacation time. Moreover, I would be a new employee on probation. I really like my job and my clients, but enough to work for the devil?
My senior center offered me another position, if I wanted to stay. I took their offer.
In January, my supervisor informed the Devil that neither myself nor Jule would transfer. We'd rather wash dishes at the center than work them, but she probably phrased it better.
January 31, I'm still working in the old program, trying to tie things up. I get a call from the Director. They've already hired someone for my position and she starts on Monday. Could I send over 25 cases for her?
And this is the thing that made me loose it.
They have no regard for my experience. They replaced me with someone who just graduated college and has no work experience. Our program is difficult and there's a high turnover rate because it's hard to find the right person for the job. I've been doing this for 5 years, so has Jule. We rock. We've been told by auditors that we are the best in the program, not to toot my own horn. It's so comforting to know that all my experience and quality work is so replaceable.
The worst was boxing up my cases. I kept thinking about this new chick and how it's was not right that she was getting all my cases and my hard work. I told my boss that I was justing "freaking resentful."
And I am resentful. For five years, I've worked in this program and the Devil has treated my badly the entire time, that's why it's the devil. I've had second hand computers, shoddy server connections, not been informed of policy changes until after they've happened, been ignored by technical support, and treated overall as an inferior. And yet, I've excelled. I've taken their poor resources and archaic computer programs and spun straw into gold. Fuck them.
But I still miss my old job and that's killing me.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Poe
I know it's crazy, but next year is Poe's 200th birthday and I'd like to go to Baltimore to see the Poe Toaster in action. Sure, I'd have to be in a Baltimore cemetery early in the morning in January, but how awesome would it be? Pretty awesome.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Skunked
This morning, around 6 a.m., Andy and I woke to a horrible, acrid smell.
I can't really describe the smell. It was as if a skunk was burning in the furnace. Nasty. Very pungent.
Andy's first thought was that something caught fire and plastic was burning. Burning plastic, that's a good description.
We unplugged all the thingies with plugs. Nothing was melted. Nothing was warm. But the smell did seem to be concentrated in the bedroom.
I theorized that a skunk was on the roof and something scared the pocheese out of him. Andy said there were no skunks in the middle of winter. But, I countered, it's been unseasonably warm. Despite Jenny's lament that she was freezing, it's been warm for this time of year and some tulips are starting to bloom.
I got use to the funky smell. We opened windows to air out the house. The cats are on the back porch having the time of their kitty lives, smelling stuff. I began not to notice the stench until we came back from grocery shopping. The house reeks. I know I reek because the car even smells funky, and that's just from the funk on my clothes, from inside the house the skunk sprayed.
I hate skunks now. I've converted.
I can't really describe the smell. It was as if a skunk was burning in the furnace. Nasty. Very pungent.
Andy's first thought was that something caught fire and plastic was burning. Burning plastic, that's a good description.
We unplugged all the thingies with plugs. Nothing was melted. Nothing was warm. But the smell did seem to be concentrated in the bedroom.
I theorized that a skunk was on the roof and something scared the pocheese out of him. Andy said there were no skunks in the middle of winter. But, I countered, it's been unseasonably warm. Despite Jenny's lament that she was freezing, it's been warm for this time of year and some tulips are starting to bloom.
I got use to the funky smell. We opened windows to air out the house. The cats are on the back porch having the time of their kitty lives, smelling stuff. I began not to notice the stench until we came back from grocery shopping. The house reeks. I know I reek because the car even smells funky, and that's just from the funk on my clothes, from inside the house the skunk sprayed.
I hate skunks now. I've converted.
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