• Leave me a comment saying "Resistance is Futile."

• I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can satisfy my curiosity.

• Update your journal with the answers to the questions.

• Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions.


1) (and I've probably asked this) How did you end up in Cedar Rapids and why?

I had a friend who lived here, and we were looking for somewhere new to go. In retrospect, it was probably a "bad" decision, but everything happens for a reason, and the people I've met here have far outweighed the relative lack of culture and the shitty weather. Still, I keep thinking it's time to move on. We'll see.

2) Who is your hero? Why?

That's a toughie. I'm not sure I really have one. My kids come close - some of the things they do really amaze me. They have such strong personalities and strength of character, and if any one thing could come close to hearing D.C. reading a book for the first time today, it would be how excited and proud Thalia was of him! Such love.

3) What would you do on your ideal date (money/time/babysitting is no object)?

Barnes & Noble, then a late dinner (either Indian or pizza) then home for a bottle of wine & a board game. Am I boring? I'm afraid I might be boring...

4) What is your favorite musical genre and why?

This is almost impossible to answer. I love so many things for so many different reasons, and some of what I love doesn't even have a genre identification yet (Sunset Rubdown is sometimes called "post-punk," but that just sits wrong with me.) I guess I would have to say progressive, but I'm not even sure I could narrow it down to progressive rock. There's so much more out there that I feel embodies the essence of progressive music, that I wouldn't consistently call "rock" - I like to use a label I call "progressive folk" for artists like Beck, who stretch the boundaries of genre and yet always seem to pay homage to their roots (in the way that all good "folk" musicians do) and who draw from progressive sensibilities, in the cohesive, thematic albums and the constant experimentation. Similarly, artists like the Flaming Lips I tend to call "progressive pop," much like the later Beatles. So, OK. Progressive. I like concept albums and musical experimentation, and I like stuff that makes you think, both musically and lyrically.

5) If you could go on vacation, where would you go and who would you take?

Ireland, and Thalia. My mom always wanted to take me to Ireland someday, but we never made it. So, I figure eventually, when I can afford it, I'll take my own daughter instead.

Oops, missed a day. I was pretty out of it yesterday. Today, although I'm still exhausted (bronchitis sucks) I can't manage to get to sleep. I've been cleaning instead, probably not the best idea, but hey. I left work early today because I was so wiped out, but every time I close my eyes, I just lie there. Sadness.

The kids have off of school today for some teacher learning day or summat. Luckily, it's simply lovely out, and James decided to walk them up to the park for a few hours. (again, I should be making use of it by sleeping, but can't.) I wish I'd felt good enough to go with them! I am so sick of this sickness.

I've become unhealthily addicted to Psych lately. I borrowed the first two seasons from James' mom, and then started trying to track down s3 online. Was pointed to one site, but it skips quite a lot - would probably be fine with a faster internet speed. So, I started spending the money I had sitting in my iTunes account from some gift card from a while ago. Sweet! Only $2/ep, which isn't bad! The REAL sign of my addiction, though, is that I bought my favorite ep from s1, so I could watch it again (and again. and again.) Crazy.

In other addicted-to-television news, I've become quite fond of Eastwick, and I hope my "nothing I like sticks around for more than a season, if that" curse isn't coming into effect, because they pulled all of the episodes off of the ABC website, and the most recent (from Wed.) never got posted. I will be very sad if it disappears mid-season, because I love Rebecca Romijn, Lindsay Price, and that dude from Slings & Arrows. LOVE THEM!

Being sick is teh suxx0rs.

It has been brought to my attention that I seem to have developed bronchitis. Fail.

In the happy news front, James' step-mom had her baby on Halloween! I have yet to meet little Lindsi Marie, but I find it so exciting that James has so many young younger siblings. I can't wait 'til I'm healthy so I can convince James (for whom the novelty has somewhat worn off) to go visit.

Also, jakeit's friend Sheila should be having her baby any time now. She's in being induced now.

Babies are awesome!

There you have it: from feeling like I'm at death's door, to new arrivals into this world. "It's the CIIIIIIIRRRCLE of LIIIIIIIIFE!"

Or something.

I guess I'm simply hard to please.

Let me say this to get things started: all appearances to the contrary, I do *not* "hate" my job. It frustrates me no end, most days, and my co-workers drive me crazy, most days... but overall, it's better than many I've had. I like that I'm on my feet all day, instead of stuck behind a desk. I like that I get to help customers. There are many things about my job that make it preferable to many others I've had.

HOWEVER.

I get in to work at 5am. The store doesn't open 'til 8am. The overnight crew leaves at around 7. One of the supposed "perks" to working overnight is that they're allowed to listen to music. How it's chosen varies, but I think often whoever is the "Leader on Duty" just chooses. For whatever reason, all they can play is the radio. There's no internet feed, no CD player - just radio. For reasons obvious to most people (i.e., I'm a curmudgeon, normal people like normal music, etc) they always play commercial radio. More often than not, they play the local "easy listening," "hits of the past 2-3 decades" station.

No matter what mood I'm in when I get to work - happy, sad, excited, depressed, neutral - within 20min of "easy listening" I feel my violent tendencies start to once again take hold. Nothing makes me angrier than radio commercials, for some reason... well, except maybe early morning radio host banter. Then, there's the music. Music is very important to me, generally. I can manipulate my mood like a puppeteer just by playing the right music. Sometimes, if the music is really bad, I can just let it fade into the background. The trouble with "easy listening" stations, though, is that they trick my ears into paying attention by playing, say, Billy Joel, and then before I can shut down again, they've assaulted my aural faculties with, say, Bryan Adams.

Early mornings at work are hell for me. They won't let us bring in mp3 players and listen to our own music. They won't turn the overhead music off. I guess I should just be glad that (a)I don't work overnight, and (b)the store is silent while it's open!

Sigh. I really miss the one time when James was working overnights at Target and they had a contest to see who would pick the radio station for the night and he won, and I came in at 5 and got to hear NPR! Oh, it was heavenly.

I'm not particularly skilled at large numbers of things. I know next to nothing about computers (well, I taught myself some basic HTML 10yrs ago about which I remember little, and I took a C++ class in college about which I remember less.) I can't fix things when they're broken. I can't sew to save my life. Really, if it has a practical use, chances are I'm lousy at it.

However, the things at which I DO excel are quite dear to me. Call it vanity, call it foolish pride: even though I know they are scoffed upon by the bulk of society, I own my skills. I love them. I cherish them.

Which is why, when I see something posted in my department at work that shows an utter lack of concern for such basic details as WHAT WORDS MEAN, I get angry. Like, Hulk-angry. I know that's silly. I know I'm an intolerant pedant. Still, I'm pretty sure I learned the word THESAURUS sometime in elementary school. I'm also pretty sure that a list of common foods and the aisle in which they are located is NOT, in fact, a "Food Thesaurus."

What I don't get is why people won't acknowledge the fact that word meanings are a key component to communication. If someone were to have told me that we were getting a "Food Thesaurus" I'd have said, "Awesome! It's nice to be reminded that chick peas are the same as garbanzo beans!" I certainly would NOT have expected something that would far more accurately be referred to as a directory.

So, in summary, I think I kind of get it now. I may perhaps understand where my mother was coming from when she would nag me, as a kid, only to be friends with my "intellectual equals." I still think she was wrong in demanding that of a high school kid - that's precisely when I was supposed to be exploring my options, learning what people are all about, learning what I was and wanted to be. However, as I go through life experiencing the agonizing frustration she was trying to spare me, I see why she was so adamant.

It's not even that I necessarily think people who don't know or care about these things are LESS than me. In fact, it's more that *they* tend to think that I am less than *them,* for bothering to care. Also, though, it's that I don't like who I become when I "Hulk out" like that. I don't like the anger that rages through me. I don't like the condescension I feel, or the urge to punch people. Still, I also don't like the thought of NOT caring. I just want to be around other people who care, too. Or at least people who care that *I* care, because they realize that *somebody* should.

I am currently trying to decide whether encouraging myself to post daily (or at least more regularly) will spur my creativity and foster better discipline... or simply add to my list of Ways to Procrastinate.

It's an interesting conundrum. Mainly just because I like the word conundrum.

Many of you here will no doubt remember that first gathering at the beginning of freshman orientation at William & Mary. They sat us down, and told us, essentially: "Listen. You got here because you're the best of the best. When you leave here, you'll be the best of the best again. However, while you're here, you're surrounded by others just like you. You're normal; you're average, unless you work your tush off not to be so."

I'm paraphrasing.

Thing is, I couldn't handle it. Growing up, I was "the best of the best" (or some close approximation thereto) just by... being. I wasn't made for hard work; I'd abjured it for 17 long years and I wasn't going to start then. Of course, you all know the rest - I inevitably flunked out of that prestigious school, and have spent the rest of my adulthood paying for it (in life; the actual loans I paid off with my mom's 401k when she passed away. don't worry, I racked up more when I went back to school & dropped out, later.)

Now, in the "real world," even though I never got a degree, I'm ostensibly "the best of the best" again. I see it in my workplace, mostly - not that people aren't intelligent (because of course I've grown to realize that there are all different sorts of ways to be intelligent, yadda yadda yadda) but that they aren't CURIOUS. I see it just in everyday life, walking down the street. I don't mean to be vain, but most folks would agree: people (in general, often, and always as a group) are stupid.

Thing is, I can't handle it. Somehow, in my 4+ years at W&M, I got used to being mediocre. Or, more honestly, I got comfortable with being *normal.* Now, as I get older, I would give ANYthing to be put in a situation where I am forced to work my tush off to prove myself. I'm TIRED of being that same lazy teenager who was handed life on a silver platter for the mere freak of genetics that allowed her to out-think her peers. I'm sick of out-thinking people; I want to be challenged!

I want to be told I'm not good enough, so I can step up and say, "Oh you think SO, huh?!"

This is all a roundabout, making-me-late-to-work way of saying that I'm sick of dithering. Each paycheck from now 'til Christmas, if I can afford it, I will be taking $40 and using it to pay the application fee at various colleges. U of Iowa, U Wisconson - Madison, and re-applying at W&M are at the top of my list. Screw this waiting and doubting. I hereby commit it to typing, and enter it as a promise, with you, oh denizens of LiveJournal, as my witnesses. Even though I sound like a pompous ass in the bulk of this entry.

I'm counting on you to hold me to this, guys!

In ten years' time, I would like to be living somewhere other than Iowa. I want to be able to go to concerts on a regular basis without having to drive 4hrs and spend more on gas than on tickets. In fact, a key factor of my dream lifestyle is attending concerts as often as humanly possible. I would, of course, like to *give* concerts as well, ideally. Spending 5 out of 7 nights a week immersed in the live music scene would be perfect - the other two nights would be reserved for attending theater.

I want to work a job that doesn't require me to be up at 3am.

I want to be exercising on a regular basis, ideally incorporating yoga classes into the routine.

I hope to have finished my first bachelor's degree and be pursuing either a second, or a master's. I think it would be awesome to eventually secure a BA, a BS, AND a BM. I'll settle for just one master's, though.

I want to be making enough money to eat organic, low-impact, and locally. Either that, or I'd like to magically force the government to either subsidize healthy foods so they're cheaper, or penalize crap so it's prohibitively expensive to make and buy. Or both.

I just want to point out, and perhaps, quite possibly, revel in, the irony of the fact that I went and joined a gym less than a week before having my ingrown toenail cut out. I really want to be good, and not waste money, and feel better, and for all other sorts of various reasons GO TO THE DAMNED GYM... but, a full week later, my damned to is still majorly painful, to the extent that doing half an hour on the elliptical would probably be a fucking stupid idea, heh.

I am the queen of excuses, but even I couldn't have made this one up. Stupid toe.

I still feel like there must be something wrong if it still hurts a week later. I'm nearly out of acetaminophen + codeine! Only 4 pills left... and I haven't been taking the full 3/day that I'm "allowed." IF this doesn't feel better within 2-3days, I may have to go back to the dr... which would suck, as I'm pretty sure they don't take me seriously much of the time. (apparently, everything I complain about is nothing more than a "physical symptom of depression" - which I'm guessing is the new PC term for "hypochondria.")

Having just read this entry from athaena:



The Big Read thinks the average adult has only read six of the top 100 books they've printed below.

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.

( cut for your sanity... )

THE RULES!

1. Put your music playing device on shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
4. Tag friends who might enjoy doing this here meme.


( While the car warms up, I shall meme. )
Hardly any of these make ANY sense :(

I got a total of 2hrs fitful sleep last night, following the incredible awesomeness that was Hamell on Trial (review here.) I never sleep well when I know the alarm is due to go off soon, because I hateHateHATE alarms, and in fact when I'm on a fairly regular schedule and getting decent amounts of sleep, I'll often wake JUST before my alarm goes off, naturally, and turn it off before I have to hear it.

So anyway, I'm killing time, because I showered last night, and my lunch is made, and I'm not leaving for work for another 1/2hr. In addition to farting around on LJ, this time-killing involves farting around on Wikipedia. I was looking at the list of "Musical groups disestablished in 2008." What a fucking awkward way of phrasing that, eh? Seriously.

Anyway, I learned, or relearned, or was reminded, that Quiet Riot disbanded late last year, because Kevin DuBrow was found dead in November. I can't believe I didn't remember that, assuming I ever knew. All I can say, and you can mock me all you like, is that I'm glad I saw Quiet Riot when I did (sometime in '99 or '00, I can't remember which) because it would've sucked to miss them entirely. They were my favorite band when I was a little kid! My best friend at the time was heavy into INXS herself, and my cousin cartoongoddess, whom we also hung out with a lot, was a hardcore Depeche Mode fan. Funny - hair metal, pop, and post-punk. An interesting combination.

Most of the other bands on the "disestablished" list were acts I'd never heard of. Sad. Apparently someone cared about them enough to write them Wikipedia entries... so it's sad that they broke up, and sadder still that no one cares. Heh.

As contrast, I have heard of exactly ZERO of the acts listed has having been established in 2008... which is more reasonable, I guess... give 'em time to get famous, right? Still I'd like to become more well-versed in modern music. I feel like I should, anyway. It's wrong of me, though, I think, that I have this disturbing rubbernecking desire to cross-reference the "Musical groups established in 2007" list with the "Musical groups disestablished in 2008" list. Isn't it?

Here's a question for you all, part etiquette, part brainstorm:


Say you're invited to Thanksgiving dinner, and the enthusiastic and well-meaning host vehemently insists that you bring nothing. However, you're painfully aware that going to an event like this empty-handed will cause your dear-departed mother to roll over in her grave (not an easy feat, given that she was cremated) AND will lead to feelings of inadequacy and embarrassment.

What do you do?

Currently, my plan is to bring a nice flower arrangement for the table, and a bottle of wine. I'll probably do that regardless of the responses here, but I'm looking for something more. Something different. Something a little less obvious than wine and flowers.

C'mon people! Throw some ideas at me!

It's really funny that this Question of the Day was sponsored by Best Buy - because they give out credit cards like freakin' CANDY, and that's probably the ONLY way I'll be doing any holiday shopping at all this year. So, anyone expecting gifts from me, it'll most likely be a CD... or a DVD... or printer ink...

I'm happy about Obama winning, yadda yadda yadda. Historic day blah blah.


NOW!

WHAT THE FUCK, CALIFORNIA?!?!?!

I am so unutterably annoyed right now. It's like the country took one step forward, and two steps back. How can two - TWO! - states that voted for the Democratic presidential candidate ALSO have voted in initiatives to ban gay marriage?? Oh, and CA. Ugh. This back and forth thing is so damned frustrating!


THIS is what I don't understand about all of these constitutional amendments to define marriage as between a man and a woman:

Marriage, in most - if not all - religions is a *sacrament.* Right? Now, in the U.S., even things that are otherwise illegal are often legal when they are religious sacraments. If I understand it correctly, that is. If Native Americans can smoke peyote sacramentally, and Rastafarians can smoke marijuana in a religious context, then shouldn't it also be protected for anyone who is allowed &/or encouraged by their church to get married, to be able to do so? With absolutely NO secular penalties? Meaning, they should be able to enjoy all secular benefits applied to the term elsewise?

I don't know. I was thinking about that today. I'm no lawyer or anything, but wtf, srsly. You can't amend your damned state constitution to PREVENT people from participating in their religious sacraments (unless people are being ACTUALLY harmed - I'm pretty sure Satanists can't sacrifice babies, hehehe!)

Not one person, at an entire convention supposedly filled with the geekiest of the geeky, seemed to know that I was dressed as a Pastamancer yesterday! Do so few people play Kingdom of Loathing?? (I know that skipperdee was busy with and distracted by all of her various duties in making the Con run smoothly, so I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt... ;0) )

Maybe it's not that people don't play the game, but that my costume simply wasn't very good. TONS of people commented on my Grateful Undead shirt, on its lonesome. The proprietor of King Zombie assumed I was a fellow zombie-lover (which, y'know, I am, but still...) Lots of people said "Cool shirt!" but I don't think a one of them meant it in reference to the game.

Perhaps the shirt was too distracting. I should've worn the Star Shirt that I made for James, instead. Hell, I just should've been the Disco Bandit instead, full out! Apparently, in life, as in game, my class choice is sub-optimal ;0)

Overall, though, ICON was an awesome experience, and it was incredibly fun to take Thalia to her first Con ever. I'm only disappointed that I didn't get to meet Tanya Huff. If I had the money for another day pass, I'd totally skip out of church today and drive down for her discussions today (the Aliens: Writing About What You Don't Know one sounds particularly interesting!) She is so awesome, and it's cool that she came to Iowa. I REALLY wanted to go to her Are Vampires the Only Erotic Fantasy Creatures? panel last night, but I didn't think it was really something I should take Thalia too. That, and not getting to jump in on a game of Arkham Horror, were the only downsides to going alone with a six-year-old to a sci-fi con.


**************************************************************************

On a completely different note: I found out yesterday that a fella I knew in college committed suicide last week. I've been crying off and on since I heard about it. We were never as close as I wished we could've been... but he was just such an amazing, wonderful individual. Please keep his loved ones in your thoughts and prayers.

I was charged, recently, with the task of spending some time each day imagining myself in various "dream jobs," a different one each day for a week.

The argument for this was based on a study which claimed to have found that paraplegics were notably happier if they spend some time each day daydreaming about walking.

My initial reaction was, "WTF? Wouldn't that just be depressing?" However, I decided to try it out anyway.

Last night, as I lay in bed anticipating sleep, I started imagining my first "dream job" - theoretical mathematician. It started out nice enough: lots of lovely images of long nights spent at white boards. However, my mind then did that THING it does, where it just can't let a good thing be. It was all downhill from there, no matter how I tried to spin it - lots of terrifying thoughts of how I'd have to be attached to a university, so I'd have to be a professor, and even if I could arrange it so that I ONLY taught classes relating to algebra (my favorite subject, at any difficulty level) I still would have to *teach,* which is something that terrifies me and that (not coincidentally, I'm sure) I'm rather terrible at. Not to mention the fear that I'd alienate all of my friends and family, and encourage rather than challenge my social phobias.

Sigh. Sometimes I can't tell whether I'm pragmatic, or cynical, or some warped and twisted combination of the two. I'm willing to keep giving this thing a try, really I am... but I just have no faith in my skills at "playing pretend." There's no reason to believe that any of my other "dream jobs" will fare any better. In fact, I would imagine that the most I would gain from this exercise is a sense of resignation towards my own life, since no "dream" job would ever be all it's cracked up to be. Not a bad lesson to learn, I suppose, but certainly not the increased sense of vicarious joy which I was promised, heh.

For all that I daydream a lot, it tends, I suppose, to be rather negative. I tend to like thinking about all of the bad things that could possibly happen, so I'm never unpleasantly surprised. I also don't like imagining good things, because then I could be disappointed. Pretty fucked up, huh?

Fun interactivity, via ellen_datlow:

Palin as President

It is important to mark the passing of years. They are the longest spans of time over which we have any sort of control. The next higher standard measurement, the decade, is next to meaningless - after all, we see, what, 8 or 9 of them in our lifetime, if we're lucky? You can't make plans by the decade, really. You waste a lot of time if you wait to see what the next decade will bring. Years, however, are powerful and empowering.

Still, typical New Year's celebrations are overblown and commercial. The placement of months on our calendar is in itself arbitrary. Other cultures - Jewish, Chinese - have their own "new year" that's just as valid as our Western, Roman-inspired mishmash. Resolutions made in the dead of winter, in the depths of depression, melt away with the snow and serve no purpose but to increase disillusionment.

Birthdays! Now *that's* the way to go about recognizing and celebrating the passage of years! Another year seen by our own eyes, experienced by our own senses. Another year we have ahead to plan for, and to encapsulate all of our excitement and trepidation. A true year, more or less (sadly, without taking into account the 1/4 day differential) - not a year reliant on nonsensical names and numbers that no longer even match (September? Really? The seventh month, is it?)



Happy Birthday to starcrossedlady!!!! I'm glad our seasons spin 'round together :)



This has been an awesome birthday for me.

James, of course, gave me my presents a while ago. He gave me the Amanda Palmer solo CD, Who Killed Amanda Palmer - WHICH IS AWESOME! People keep saying that it's "overproduced," but they must be on crack because Ben Folds is a brilliant producer. Silly fools won't accept Has Been as conclusive evidence. Sigh. Anyway, James gave me the CD early, because he wanted to make sure I didn't get it myself :)

James also got me tickets to see Sunset Rubdown, which we picked up well before my birthday, obviously. That concert is Thursday, and OH MY GOD I am so excited. Spencer Krug WILL be smuggling me back to Canada with him. I decree it, and everything I say on my birthday is FACT.

The rest of my haul, so far:


This was from James' mom, Barb. AWESOME!!! As my friend Dave said, "That gift really benefits everybody!"



This was from my friends Jim & Val. Oh my God it's the coolest thing ever.


I also got a card from jakeit, and my aunt told me via email that a box from her is on its way.

Birthdays RULE. I don't care if I'm too old to get this excited. FUCKIT!! Birthdays rule.


OH! and my gift to myself? Copious baking :D I made: tiramisu for my friend Dave, who's party was joint with mine (his birthday was the 24th;) cupcakes to take into work; mini cupcakes to take to the preschoolers I teach at church; coffee cakes to bring to Angel Food distribution yesterday morning; AND (last but not least) MORE cupcakes to bring out to Hamburger Mary's tonight, when I meet up with some people for drinks. I LOVE baking, and my birthday is the PERFECT opportunity to accost people with unaskedfor sweets :)