I hope y'all had a very merry christmas this year, or whichever winter solstice holiday you observe (as a Unitarian, I feel free to borrow whatever holiday traditions appeal without asking permission. Doesn't quite make up for when they use to burn us at the stake, but you take what you can get. Anywho.)
I worked hard to instill an appreciation for reading in Taylor when she was young, and refused to let myself freak out when she wasn't already reading Russian novelists or "The Monster at the End of This Book" when she was three. Or four. Or five. And now, at thirteen, she reads like a maniac. Whenever she goes anywhere, she has to lug around several books to read, and she usually finished them all before she gets home. I worry that she's going to give herself a hernia the next time she is packing for a two-week vacation.
So, for christmas this year, Julie and I bought her a Kindle. Her reaction when she opened it? "This is good. This is very good," whispered over and over in a hushed awe. "I can carry all my books with me everywhere..." We got her set up and downloaded the latest Harry Dresden book, and she's been curled up on the couch with it all afternoon. Now that she's a teenager, I have no doubt that there will be plenty of times when her parents are clueless dweebs who just don't understand anything. But this year we got it right, and I am happy.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
I Don't Think The Grocery Store Carries Those....
Saturday morning I'm at the grocery store to get some rations to see us through the weekend. Night before, Julie had texted me a shopping list because she knows I won't remember what she tells me we need, and she certainly doesn't want me to call and ask her when she's sleeping. So I pull out my phone and check the list:
sodas
milk
eggs
cat food
cat litter
puppy numbing
bitch
fuckerhead
sonofabitch
dammit
damn
prostitution whore!
sodas
milk
eggs
cat food
cat litter
puppy numbing
bitch
fuckerhead
sonofabitch
dammit
damn
prostitution whore!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
In The Spirit Of International Goodwill
To any non-US readers:
Okay, so, you didn't grow up with a heavily sanitized version of the tale of a bunch of snotty religious fanatics leaving England for a land they were so unequipped to survive in that they damn near had to eat their own dead to survive. Zealots who were pretty much rescued by the native tribes whom they re-paid by giving them smallpox and stealing their land, paving the way for hysterical persecutions of single women for witchcraft a couple of generations later. And you probably have to go to work today, because for you it's just another Thursday.
Nevertheless, Happy Thanksgiving!
Okay, so, you didn't grow up with a heavily sanitized version of the tale of a bunch of snotty religious fanatics leaving England for a land they were so unequipped to survive in that they damn near had to eat their own dead to survive. Zealots who were pretty much rescued by the native tribes whom they re-paid by giving them smallpox and stealing their land, paving the way for hysterical persecutions of single women for witchcraft a couple of generations later. And you probably have to go to work today, because for you it's just another Thursday.
Nevertheless, Happy Thanksgiving!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Sneak Preview
Did a little photo editing this weekend, and I feel like showing it off. This will end up in a Need More Rage post, probably sometime this week.
Click to embiggen
"Get off my city, or Ima gonna break your iron frickin' jaw!"
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
Thoughts On The Upcoming WoW Expansion
Two years ago I was looking forward to the upcoming Wrath expansion with the expectation that things would pick up where they left off. I had been raiding quite successfully the previous spring and summer with Aetherial Circle, but that had come to an end as summer doldrums, pre-expansion doldrums, and general burn-out took a toll on the roster until the GM called a halt. But with the expansion, everything was going to go back to how it had been before. Right? Eh....
There were tensions that I had not been fully aware of. Tensions between people who wanted to go farther, faster, and people who were in it for the sense of being part of a team. There was a struggle for the soul of the guild in the early days of Wrath, and my side lost. At the time it seemed like a really huge deal, and I was hurt and frustrated. Then came the bizarre, twisted destruction of Sidhe Devils, which had been my place to go chill out. Again, I was hurt and frustrated.
Now, going into Cataclysm, my expectations are a lot lower, and I think that is a good thing. Part of that is a better understanding that guilds do break up and die. Part of it is the experience I had with The Left Claw, where I was able to gear up, join an existing raid, and be a contributing member even as we did the hardest fights in the game. Part of it is the dungeon finder tool, and the freedom it offers to join a group and reap the rewards whenever I feel like it. And part of it is having a real life family I can play with.
So, I go into Cataclysm with some vague plans. I will level to 85 and raid some. I will level some new alts. I will play with people I like. But I don't have any concerns about the lack of specificity. I don't needto be driven. I don't need to reach the point I can raid before day X, or risk losing it all. I am free to do a little of this, and a little of that. So, I am looking forward to this expansion too, but in a very, very different way.
There were tensions that I had not been fully aware of. Tensions between people who wanted to go farther, faster, and people who were in it for the sense of being part of a team. There was a struggle for the soul of the guild in the early days of Wrath, and my side lost. At the time it seemed like a really huge deal, and I was hurt and frustrated. Then came the bizarre, twisted destruction of Sidhe Devils, which had been my place to go chill out. Again, I was hurt and frustrated.
Now, going into Cataclysm, my expectations are a lot lower, and I think that is a good thing. Part of that is a better understanding that guilds do break up and die. Part of it is the experience I had with The Left Claw, where I was able to gear up, join an existing raid, and be a contributing member even as we did the hardest fights in the game. Part of it is the dungeon finder tool, and the freedom it offers to join a group and reap the rewards whenever I feel like it. And part of it is having a real life family I can play with.
So, I go into Cataclysm with some vague plans. I will level to 85 and raid some. I will level some new alts. I will play with people I like. But I don't have any concerns about the lack of specificity. I don't needto be driven. I don't need to reach the point I can raid before day X, or risk losing it all. I am free to do a little of this, and a little of that. So, I am looking forward to this expansion too, but in a very, very different way.
Monday, November 08, 2010
Terms Of Endearment
Her: Come over here. I want cuddles.
:: cuddling ::
Her: Aiyeeee! Your foot is freezing!
Me: Yeah, it was sticking out from under the blanket.
Her: You cannot do that! Crazy motherfucker.
Me: ... I'm your husband. You cannot call me a "motherfucker."
Her: I just did. Bitch.
Me: This is so going on the blog.
:: cuddling ::
Her: Aiyeeee! Your foot is freezing!
Me: Yeah, it was sticking out from under the blanket.
Her: You cannot do that! Crazy motherfucker.
Me: ... I'm your husband. You cannot call me a "motherfucker."
Her: I just did. Bitch.
Me: This is so going on the blog.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
New Rules
Rule 1: Oatmeal raison cookies from Tiff's Treats are a legitimate substitute for the planned evening meal.
Rule 2: Dogs are no longer allowed to pull the insole out of my sneakers and bite holes in them.
Rule 3: In all future residences, the television where the teenaged offspring tend to congregate on Friday and Saturday evenings will not be located right outside of our bedroom door.
Rule 4: No one will talk about Rule 4. Ever.
Rule 5: When inviting relatives for the weekend, make sure they understand this does not mean "show up on Tuesday."
Rule 2: Dogs are no longer allowed to pull the insole out of my sneakers and bite holes in them.
Rule 3: In all future residences, the television where the teenaged offspring tend to congregate on Friday and Saturday evenings will not be located right outside of our bedroom door.
Rule 4: No one will talk about Rule 4. Ever.
Rule 5: When inviting relatives for the weekend, make sure they understand this does not mean "show up on Tuesday."
Thursday, October 21, 2010
The One Where I Talk About My Sex Life
Back when I was still with Brett, I used to be pretty unhappy about my sex life. Year after year, the frequency would decline, and while sometimes it could be very good, sometimes it could be not good, sometimes even to the point of being downright bad. The six months or so that she would break out in hives at the end was particularly memorable, but often things were more mundane. "You've been really sweet and kind and attentive and helpful today, but I'd just rather stay up and watch this thirty-year-old sitcom than go to bed with you." "OMFG. You guys were like roommates. I think I would kill myself," was Hydra's response when I told her what it had been like. Looking back, I can see that a lot of what I thought was love and affection was really just her hormones kicking into overdrive for a few days. When that had happened to her in college, she'd go on a tear and sleep with a different guy every night. But then I came along, and I was safe and reliable and dependable, so we would be romantic and passionate until her itch was done being scratched. I would take it as a sign she really did love me, and cling to it through the following dry spell. But when the dry spells grew to be multiple months long, even I caught a clue.
Then, Julie entered my life. She not only enjoyed sex as much as I did, she really did love me. (And, yeah, it was a brand new, exciting relationship. That never hurts.) We made love whenever could, in person during our too-infrequent visits together, over the phone or on-line when we had to be apart. For eight months, it was wonderful.
Then came the cancer diagnosis.
We tried to keep the passion going, we both did. But when you don't know if you're going to live or die, when you're being cut into and poisoned and irradiated, when you throw up after every meal and your hair falls out and your breasts are removed, it's pretty damn hard to feel sexy. And I was far too scared I'd lose her, and concerned about her health, and focused on trying everything I could to make life easier for her to be much of a horndog either. But, there was always affection, always a desire to be close to each other as much and as often as possible. I never, ever felt alone the way I did with Brett.
So now, four months after the treatments ended, where are we? In a lot of ways, Julie is recovered from the ordeal. Much of her physical strength is back, and she (and I) aren't fighting a constant battle with fear anymore. (The fear is still there, for me at least, but it's down to a quiet background hum.) Unfortunately, though, her interest in sex hasn't come back. As she said to me the other night,
"I miss wanting sex. I know that sounds weird, but it's like my sex drive took off. I want it back."
It's not that she objects to sex, it's just not something on her radar anymore. Combined with the facts that she works 3-4 nights a week so we often only see each other for a few minutes in the morning and the evening, and we now have her son (and on weekends, my daughter) living with us so there's a lot less privacy, it just doesn't happen all that often. Like, about the same frequency I had with Brett. She's apologized to me, a couple of times, about the irony of it all, that I'm still not getting any. But it's not the same.
For one thing, there's still a lot of physical affection. Cuddling, backrubs, and tickling - I never was particularly ticklish as an adult, but Julie can get me to shriek hysterically. For another, there's still some pain, as her body struggles to adapt to having several lymph nodes removed. This will get better with time. I know she's having to deal with body image issues. I still find her sexy as hell, but it's hard for her, after years of having big magnificent knockers, to accept a pair of small, uneven lumps of fat and scar tissue. This will get easier with time, particularly next year when things have healed enough to get cosmetic surgery. And someday, in a few years, the kids will go off to college - Whoo hoo!
So, yeah, the era of frequent, easy sex is gone. And I miss it, sometimes. But I am loved, and I get to give and receive affection, and I know it'll get easier with time, instead of the slow steady decline I had before. So, I'm okay with it. Gods know, there's a lot worse things that could happen.
I used to write her erotic stories, back in the pre-cancer days. Sometimes featuring us, sometimes our warcraft characters. They could get her (and me) very excited, and add some very enjoyable spice. But I stopped doing that when things got grim a year ago. This week, I started writing a new one. I'll show it to her this weekend, when we both have some time, and we shall see what happens.
Then, Julie entered my life. She not only enjoyed sex as much as I did, she really did love me. (And, yeah, it was a brand new, exciting relationship. That never hurts.) We made love whenever could, in person during our too-infrequent visits together, over the phone or on-line when we had to be apart. For eight months, it was wonderful.
Then came the cancer diagnosis.
We tried to keep the passion going, we both did. But when you don't know if you're going to live or die, when you're being cut into and poisoned and irradiated, when you throw up after every meal and your hair falls out and your breasts are removed, it's pretty damn hard to feel sexy. And I was far too scared I'd lose her, and concerned about her health, and focused on trying everything I could to make life easier for her to be much of a horndog either. But, there was always affection, always a desire to be close to each other as much and as often as possible. I never, ever felt alone the way I did with Brett.
So now, four months after the treatments ended, where are we? In a lot of ways, Julie is recovered from the ordeal. Much of her physical strength is back, and she (and I) aren't fighting a constant battle with fear anymore. (The fear is still there, for me at least, but it's down to a quiet background hum.) Unfortunately, though, her interest in sex hasn't come back. As she said to me the other night,
"I miss wanting sex. I know that sounds weird, but it's like my sex drive took off. I want it back."
It's not that she objects to sex, it's just not something on her radar anymore. Combined with the facts that she works 3-4 nights a week so we often only see each other for a few minutes in the morning and the evening, and we now have her son (and on weekends, my daughter) living with us so there's a lot less privacy, it just doesn't happen all that often. Like, about the same frequency I had with Brett. She's apologized to me, a couple of times, about the irony of it all, that I'm still not getting any. But it's not the same.
For one thing, there's still a lot of physical affection. Cuddling, backrubs, and tickling - I never was particularly ticklish as an adult, but Julie can get me to shriek hysterically. For another, there's still some pain, as her body struggles to adapt to having several lymph nodes removed. This will get better with time. I know she's having to deal with body image issues. I still find her sexy as hell, but it's hard for her, after years of having big magnificent knockers, to accept a pair of small, uneven lumps of fat and scar tissue. This will get easier with time, particularly next year when things have healed enough to get cosmetic surgery. And someday, in a few years, the kids will go off to college - Whoo hoo!
So, yeah, the era of frequent, easy sex is gone. And I miss it, sometimes. But I am loved, and I get to give and receive affection, and I know it'll get easier with time, instead of the slow steady decline I had before. So, I'm okay with it. Gods know, there's a lot worse things that could happen.
I used to write her erotic stories, back in the pre-cancer days. Sometimes featuring us, sometimes our warcraft characters. They could get her (and me) very excited, and add some very enjoyable spice. But I stopped doing that when things got grim a year ago. This week, I started writing a new one. I'll show it to her this weekend, when we both have some time, and we shall see what happens.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Things I Have Learned Watching Television
Towing an expensive car and needing to go to the bathroom really really bad is a dangerous combination.
You should not wear $1600 shoes if you are going to be marooned on a tropical island.
It is hard to keep a secret from your wife if you have a camera crew following you around.
If your "learning disability" is causing you to flunk out of law school and you are petitioning for "special consideration", that may be a sign that you aren't cut out to be a lawyer.
Bringing your mistress to a first date does not go over well.
You should not wear $1600 shoes if you are going to be marooned on a tropical island.
It is hard to keep a secret from your wife if you have a camera crew following you around.
If your "learning disability" is causing you to flunk out of law school and you are petitioning for "special consideration", that may be a sign that you aren't cut out to be a lawyer.
Bringing your mistress to a first date does not go over well.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Any Day Now....
....gonna start exercising. Really. I mean it. Just need to find the right motivation.
Monday, October 04, 2010
Reunions
This weekend my friend Laura came to visit. It was a short stopover as she does a whirlwind cross-country trip, but for twenty-four hours we got to hang out and catch up. We'd been really good friends in college, and while we've kept in touch over the years (mostly), this was the first time we'd managed to be in the same place at the same time in about fifteen years.
(I'm the one with the really big head)
It was a super visit. Even though we are both a lot older than we were when we were seventeen, and have very different (and way more complex) lives than we once did, we still got along great. We talked about what we've been up to, where we hope to be going, what we watch on tv, what we think of certain political hot-button topics, the works. I thought she was interesting even though she's kinda quirky, she thought I was interesting even though I'm kinda quirky, and we both thoroughly enjoyed it. The only regrets were that it had to end so soon.
Hopefully we won't have to wait another fifteen years to see each other again.
Meanwhile, my 25th anniversary high school reunion is later this month. When I went to the 20th, I found myself being pulled into a group that I had been somewhat associated with in school. Friends, friends of friends, friends of friends of friends, and the ex-wife and nearly adult children of one friend. When I broke off to go mingle with other people, I wasn't literally roped and pulled back in, but somehow I kept finding myself with the same group of people. Many of whom seemed to want to act as if it was still the 1980s. "Let's go eat at the same restaurant we always used to!" "Tomorrow let's go to that place we always hung out at." It wasn't interesting. It wasn't fun. To be honest, I found it all a little creepy. And some of those people I really couldn't stand at all.
This time around, Facebook is all a-flutter with "hey let's all get together at so-and-so's house, and then we do X and it'll be just like old times." I'm sorry, but I'm not a teenager any more, and I'm not interested in reliving those days. So, I think I'm going resist the siren's cry of nostalgia, and stay home with my family instead.
(I'm the one with the really big head)
It was a super visit. Even though we are both a lot older than we were when we were seventeen, and have very different (and way more complex) lives than we once did, we still got along great. We talked about what we've been up to, where we hope to be going, what we watch on tv, what we think of certain political hot-button topics, the works. I thought she was interesting even though she's kinda quirky, she thought I was interesting even though I'm kinda quirky, and we both thoroughly enjoyed it. The only regrets were that it had to end so soon.
Hopefully we won't have to wait another fifteen years to see each other again.
Meanwhile, my 25th anniversary high school reunion is later this month. When I went to the 20th, I found myself being pulled into a group that I had been somewhat associated with in school. Friends, friends of friends, friends of friends of friends, and the ex-wife and nearly adult children of one friend. When I broke off to go mingle with other people, I wasn't literally roped and pulled back in, but somehow I kept finding myself with the same group of people. Many of whom seemed to want to act as if it was still the 1980s. "Let's go eat at the same restaurant we always used to!" "Tomorrow let's go to that place we always hung out at." It wasn't interesting. It wasn't fun. To be honest, I found it all a little creepy. And some of those people I really couldn't stand at all.
This time around, Facebook is all a-flutter with "hey let's all get together at so-and-so's house, and then we do X and it'll be just like old times." I'm sorry, but I'm not a teenager any more, and I'm not interested in reliving those days. So, I think I'm going resist the siren's cry of nostalgia, and stay home with my family instead.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Flight Safety & Story Time
Bit of a blip in the news today: a regional jet landed at JFK with one wheel up. One dingleberry passenger decided to video the view out his window and post it on YouTube. Lots of sparks, but since a wheel-up landing is something pilots routinely train for there was no real drama, and everyone walked away unharmed. On the video, you can hear the flight attended repeatedly commanding the passengers "Heads down! Stay down!" Now, in a serious situation which is totally out of their control, people have a tendency to want to know what is going on, which in this case would tend to involve looking out the window (or possibly fiddling with your video camera). This maximizes the chances that your head is going to get bounced around like a rubber ball, doing all sorts of unpleasant things to your neck. So, strong, assertive, repeated, unambiguous instructions on what to do are a pretty good idea, and that's why flight attendants are trained to do this.
Yet a number of people left complaining comments on the various articles. Some said she's shrill. Some said she's annoying. Some said they have the right to do whatever the damn well they please, if they're going to die anyway. Some said she wasn't calming and soothing. All of them are pretty damn ignorant fucktards.
Flash back to 1937 or so. TWA DC-2 at an airport in the Midwest, with some serious storms in the area. The two pilots (one of whom, Tommy, would eventually become my grandfather) are discussing whether to take off or cancel the flight. They of course had far less meteorological information available to them than modern pilots would, so there was a fair amount of educated guesswork to the process. The stewardess, (Ruth, who would later become my grandmother) stuck her head in the cockpit and asked if they intended to take off.
"Yeah, we're thinking we might," says one pilot.
"Okay, if you decide to go, let me know so I can jump off," Ruth replies, and goes back into the cabin.
There's a pause. "You think she means it?"
"I think she does," says Tommy. They decided to cancel the flight.
Flight attendants. Keeping passengers safe for over seventy years.
Yet a number of people left complaining comments on the various articles. Some said she's shrill. Some said she's annoying. Some said they have the right to do whatever the damn well they please, if they're going to die anyway. Some said she wasn't calming and soothing. All of them are pretty damn ignorant fucktards.
Flash back to 1937 or so. TWA DC-2 at an airport in the Midwest, with some serious storms in the area. The two pilots (one of whom, Tommy, would eventually become my grandfather) are discussing whether to take off or cancel the flight. They of course had far less meteorological information available to them than modern pilots would, so there was a fair amount of educated guesswork to the process. The stewardess, (Ruth, who would later become my grandmother) stuck her head in the cockpit and asked if they intended to take off.
"Yeah, we're thinking we might," says one pilot.
"Okay, if you decide to go, let me know so I can jump off," Ruth replies, and goes back into the cabin.
There's a pause. "You think she means it?"
"I think she does," says Tommy. They decided to cancel the flight.
Flight attendants. Keeping passengers safe for over seventy years.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Nurses Make The Worst Patients
"I burning up!"
"Well, you're warm, but I wouldn't call it burning up exac-"
"You be quiet! You don't know nuthin'! I the nurse! I know these things! I gonna fuckin' die."
Let the record show: She didn't fuckin' die after all.
"Well, you're warm, but I wouldn't call it burning up exac-"
"You be quiet! You don't know nuthin'! I the nurse! I know these things! I gonna fuckin' die."
Let the record show: She didn't fuckin' die after all.
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
When Netflix Says, "Yeah, I Got Nuthin'"
I added Max Headroom: The Complete Series to my Netflix queue, and the site suggested I might also be interested in movies starring Max von Sydow. Or I might want to see Max Payne.
What, no Mad Max? Sam and Max Hit the Road? Maximilian Schell?
C'mon Netflix, I clearly have an interest in movies or shows with characters and/or actors named Max. Help me out here!
What, no Mad Max? Sam and Max Hit the Road? Maximilian Schell?
C'mon Netflix, I clearly have an interest in movies or shows with characters and/or actors named Max. Help me out here!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Countdown
Monday, Julie's cancer was declared to be in full remission - a PET scan showed no signs of cancer anywhere in her body. This means one of two things: either her cancer is cured, or there are pre-cancerous timebombs hidden away in her body that cannot yet be detected. The only way to know which is to undergo regular full-body scans (every three months) to see if the cancer re-appears. If it does, then it is likely to continue to do so for the rest of her life. But if after five years it doesn't, then we conclude it was cured after all.
It kind of feels like being in a real-life Schrödinger's Cat experiment.
To help pass the time, and to encourage positive thinking, I'm setting up one of those cheap-ass web countdown timers.
It kind of feels like being in a real-life Schrödinger's Cat experiment.
To help pass the time, and to encourage positive thinking, I'm setting up one of those cheap-ass web countdown timers.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Just FYI
August in Texas? Yeah, not a good time or place for your car's air conditioner to stop working.
That is all.
That is all.
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