The insanity in my mind has caused a delay in my blog o' the day postings.

Posting will resume when I'm calmer.

Thank you.

Definitely not a lucky bug.

The Bible on Loneliness

I wish my brain would take a rest from tormenting me at night. It's bad enough during the day, but at least then I can control it to some extent. Stupid mocking dreams. Go pick on someone else for a while! Then maybe I can deal with my physical malfunctions for a bit. Yeesh. I'm just falling to pieces. :-(

Performance Review: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)

In all my 20 odd years of living in Herndon, I hadve never been to the Industrial Strength Theater - until tonight. It was smaller than I expected, but everything ran smoothly in the area they had to work in. We showed up early, foolishly thinking no one would go the second to last night, and found they'd sold out. I decided to take a chance, added my name to the wait list, and we managed to get in, right before the show.

The performance was given by three of the Elden Street Players - one of whom I recognized from the Something Different performances, only here he wasn't in a cow costume. (think Fractured Fairy Tales.) This was pretty much Fractured Shakespeare with an Improv flair to it. They acted out the vital parts of Romeo & Juliet, rapped to Othello, presented the storyline of Titus Andronicus as a cooking show, combined all 16 comedies into one big bizarre plot, turned all the King plays into a football presentation, and acted out Hamlet four times, each shorter than the last - and the last time backwards. They even got the audience involved in trying to help an audience-picked Ophelia scream properly.

All in all it was very enjoyable. I remembered more than I thought I would. (Not that memory was a useful thing here!) I may have to go reread a few plays. I just wish I had heard about it sooner.

So my sister IMs me earlier, begging for information on how to remove yellow from a picture. Having nothing better to do, I told her to email me the photo and I'd see what I could do. (I love projects like this!) After adjusting it to acceptable colors, I started playing. Below are the original, the adjusted, and the creative. This is probably one of the few times Clara actually cooperated with having her photo taken, so I wanted to be sure the photo could be rescued!

Trying hard to think of non negative things to post. Perhaps I should just change the name of my blog to Rage of a Cricket . . .

Which reminds me. My cricket's dying! I have Cri-kee from the movie Mulan in my car. When I was cleaning the other day I pulled him out - the sun had faded his face to a nasty shade of gray, and his mechanical chirp sounded very week and warped. I feel terrible!

Perhaps I'm not a lucky bug after all . . .

THE PAOMNNEHAL PWEOR OF THE HMUAN MNID
Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't
mttaer
in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng
is taht
the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a
taotl mses
and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the
huamn mnid
deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

(as forwarded by my miniatures e-list.)

Karen brought me a Strawberry Cream Frappachino. I've never had anything from Starbucks before and was determined to keep it that way, but I wanted something cold, and it sounded very tempting over the phone. Definitely worth it. My mouth feels much better now. (and my bottom teeth are straight. It took maybe 10 hours for them to get that way!)

Movie Review: Swing Kids

Fantastic. After the last few dud movies, I much appreciated this piece. Particularly the soundtrack. And the dancing. And the clothing. And the . . . oh, the whole movie.

The plot was not specific, but more of a theme about life among the youth of Nazi Germany, and the struggles they went through. I'm not sure how historically accurate it was, but the film was quite impressive. It followed a group of friends who shared a common love for the wicked, evil, american swing music. Swing in itself was not a central focus of the movie. It represented resistance to the ideals that were being forced upon them by the Nazi Youth program. I liked how they presented the two different sides - everybody came together for swing, it didn't matter if the performer was black, or what his beliefs were. If he was good, he was good. On the other side, Nazi beliefs drove everybody apart. There was no trust, not even in your closest friends.

Sometimes you just gotta watch a downer movie. Generally my downer favorite is Lord of the Rings, simply for the fact that in spite of what I hate about what's going on in my life, it will never be as bad as Frodo's. I may have to get this movie. AND the soundtrack.

Literary Insults

A graceful taunt is worth a thousand insults." -Louis Nizer

"I feel so miserable without you, it's almost like having you here." -Stephen Bishop

"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire." -Winston Churchill

"A modest little person, with much to be modest about." -Winston Churchill

"I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure." -Clarence Darrow

"He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary." -William Faulkner (about Ernest Hemingway)

"Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?" -Ernest Hemingway (about William Faulkner)

"Thank you for sending me a copy of your book; I'll waste no time reading it." -Moses Hadas

"His ears made him look like a taxicab with both doors open." -Howard Hughes (about Clark Gable)

"He is not only dull himself, he is the cause of dullness in others." -Samuel Johnson

"He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up." -Paul Keating

"He had delusions of adequacy." - Walter Kerr

"There's nothing wrong with you that reincarnation won't cure." -Jack E. Leonard

"He can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any man I know." -Abraham Lincoln

"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it." -Groucho Marx

"He has the attention span of a lightning bolt." -Robert Redford

"They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human knowledge." -Thomas Brackett Reed

"He inherited some good instincts from his Quaker forebears, but by diligent hard work, he overcame them." -James Reston (about Richard Nixon)

"In order to avoid being called a flirt, she always yielded easily." -Charles, Count Talleyrand

"Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?" -Mark Twain

"A solemn, unsmiling, sanctimonious old iceberg who looked like he was waiting for a vacancy in the Trinity." -Mark Twain

"I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it." -Mark Twain

"His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork." -Mae West

"She is a peacock in everything but beauty." -Oscar Wilde

"Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go." -Oscar Wilde

"He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends." -Oscar Wilde

"He has Van Gogh's ear for music." -Billy Wilder

"He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts...for support rather than illumination." -Andrew Lang (1844-1912)

"I have some good news!" Chirps my orthodontist. "We've made enough space!"

My front bottom teeth overlapped each other. Before I got braces, there were two that leaned backwards, kind of like a crooked fence. They were able to attach one of those back teeth to the wire when I got them. However, I had to have two teeth pulled and a spring shoved between some teeth so they could make enough room to bring the second one forward.

"Bear with me! In fifteen years none of this will matter!" At least she doesn't try to deny that it will hurt.

So today, finally, all of my teeth are now attached to the wire. It hurts like hell. Every time I look in the mirror, that tooth is just a little bit farther forward. I take a picture of my teeth at the end of every month - I should take pictures every hour right now, if I could stand the thought of opening my mouth that wide.

I will admit it's really cool to see such progress. I'm sure things will start to slow down after awhile, but right now, I suppose I'm getting my money's worth. Maybe soon I'll be able to bite into things again!

"Oh, that's right . . . and Elaine, too."

Since I'm up I might as well take the opportunity to complain about this business of exclusion people have been practicing against me. While most of the time it isn't deliberate, it's still getting to be rather insulting.

I realize I'm a quiet person, and overlooked because I'm not shouting for attention. I also realize I'm just generally in everyone's way, a third wheel at best. It's not really the exclusion itself that bothers me.
It's the fact that after the initial exclusion, they go on to point out that I've been excluded by apologizing and then trying to rectify the situation. I feel very patronized. "You were forgotten about, unwanted, but since I feel guilty now I'm going to invite you anyway. If it's too late for that, I'll extend an invitation to do something else at a later date, which I'll never honor, but at least my conscience is clear for trying."
Sometimes they go out of their way to make sure I get included in something, giving themselves a big pat on the back as they point out that they remembered me. "Look! I included you! Aren't I wonderful? You're a pathetic, wretched creature, but I, I took pity on you and made sure not to ignore your sorry existence. You should be grateful for my generosity!"
Bah.
Such a poor, unfortunate soul I am, according to everyone else. They've mostly given up on whatever expectations and dreams they had for me, and now I just get their sympathetic and condescending attitudes. I have no solution to this problem. I have a few responses, but they're a bit out of character for me. . . .

Another long day ahead, and I'll be running through it on next to no sleep. I've got Claire coming in to work on her history show, and then an ortho appointment in the afternoon. It'll be good to get that show finished, but I hate the fact that she wants to come in. A lot of the editing process is very fiddly, and I find that difficult to do while someone is sitting, watching, and waiting for you to finish so we can discuss the next part. Fortunately I've got Mike to help with all the fiddly bits. She wants it done by July 4, we may or may not get it finished by then.

I'm tired today. I need a nap.

Erin asked me to housesit for her in July while they go on a weekend vacation. It ought to be a good mini-vacation for me as well! Except, of course, for the fact that they only have dialup . . . *shudder*

Maybe I can use the time to redesign the web site. I was looking at scripts for web counters when it dawned on me - why do I need a web counter, anyway? If I really want to know, my server records that kind of information. So I don't think I'll change it. Besides, the counter just hit 5000 on my index page. I haven't looked at it in ages. Kind of cool to see it up that high!

Finally got around to washing my car. It was no picnic. (the picnic was yesterday!)
I've neglected the poor thing for too long. Dirt and scratches all over, some embedded rather deeply. I rinsed, I scrubbed, I polished, it didn't help. I'll try waxing it later, perhaps, although it may be too late. Or else, perhaps I should get professionals to do it?

As I was rolling the hose back onto the wheel, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and then suddenly felt a sharp pain on my forehead. I jerked my head back and saw a big wasp buzzing angrily around - then saw three more. So I backed off, and they settled into the bushes. I went back to the hose again, out they came again. So I went in the house to ask Dad if wasp stings were something to worry about and to see if he knew about the tenants in the hose reel. Ten minutes later he was out there with a can of bug spray and what sounded like a block of wood. I think the tenants have been evicted. I hope so, anyway. I've never been stung by anything before . . . it certainly startled me!

Yesterday's picnic was the 36th annual Brown reunion. There were quite a few people there, but I only knew maybe 6 at the most. Looking at everybody, I couldn't help but wonder if they were all related or if people with the last name of Brown just kind of showed up. It was a very nice little park out in Warrenton, and there was a ton of food. About the middle of the afternoon two of them brought guitars out of their car and started playing bluegrass gospel music. They were fantastic! They even brought old hymnbooks, and everybody started singing. With the exception of my crazy aunt, who I don't think stopped talking to my mother the entire time we were there. We finally had to leave so that they could sing in peace, as her voice was competing with the music.

Since I was on a website alteration kick, I decided to explore php options more and host my own guestbook. Currently I was using guestbookdepot.com, but I didn't like the thought of using another company. What if they shut down? Insisted on ads? I just didn't want to deal with anybody else. I finally found a php type guestbook that I could actually figure out how to use. Go sign it!

I also tweaked it, so I hope it still works. I tend to learn how to do these things by finding a finished product of what I want and taking it apart. It's probably more time consuming and a bigger pain, but it sticks with me a bit better.

Up Next - to host my own web counter! After That . . .my own blog?

I was wrong. The format I was wanting to use wasn't a php element after all. it's an embedded frame! Once I figured that part out, the rest suddenly fell into place.

I feel a little bit better. However, now I know how I want to display the Realm comics, which will most likely need php or some sort of database, based on my thoughts. I've been creating a new html file for each comic, and it's starting to get bulky. I think I had better take a closer look at all the comic pages I visit to get an idea of how they do it before I make too big of a mess. It's not going to be an easy task, as I don't have a consistent size for the comics.

Movie Review - Riverdance - Live in New York

By bizarre coincidence, Riverdance is performing here at Wolftrap this weekend. Unfortunately I hesitated too long to be able to get tickets. However, the DVD from their New York performance arrived from Netflix yesterday!

I would have preferred to see them in person. Whoever directed the taping should be taken out and shot. Not only did he have bad camera angles, but he kept cycling too fast through a series of camera angles. It was very difficult to focus on anything, and left me feeling a bit dizzy at the end of each performance.

Go see the originals. I don't think I could bear to watch this DVD a second time.

I never thought that I would be a fan of alternative music. However, I kept finding myself enjoying certain songs on the radio, and they kept turning out to be by Linkin Park. So I bought their CD (curse you, BMG! You're about to lose my membership as soon as I can use up my free CD points) I've been playing it - so far I really like five of the songs. That's pretty good odds for CDs these days!

Of course, I find myself saying and doing things I never thought of myself as doing. Or anybody else would think I would do, for that matter. I like it. It's like I was pretending to be somebody else but now I'm actually being me. Does that make sense?

Is having multiple personalities really a bad thing?

Do I sound insane?

Yes, I do.

This has possibilities.

Story project isn't going so well. The blog format just doesn't work at all, although I like the look. I'm going to need to try . . . something else. Looking at a few sites, (particularly unknownhero.com) I realize that what I want to try is in PHP format. For the life of me I can't figure it out. I've found all sorts of sites about it, but reading through them, the information just doesn't hit any of my remaining brain cells. Have I been out of school that long? Is programming something I can't do? It's driving me nuts. I see no reason why I can't learn this. Arrr!

Movie Review: Guarding Tess

Not overly impressed. There just wasn't much of anything going on. They tried to have a plot, but half the movie was spent trying to build up the strained relationship between an ex-president's widow and a secret service agent (Nicholas Cage). The other half was spent trying to change it, and then the last bit was trying to throw in some action. It just didn't flow. Tess (Shirley MacLaine) reminded me of Ann at work. Her words are the epitome of grace and charm, so much so that you don't realize at first she's stabbing you with them. (Quite frankly, I wish I could be that direct. You tend to get what you want if you ask.) She's not someone you want to get on the wrong side of, and she will do her best to put you there anyway. The kidnapping scene was kind of pointless, and I had a hard time caring about any of the characters, except for Cage. (Felt sorry for him!) It could have been a good movie, with a bit of work, perhaps a different angle. (no, Elaine, stop editing! it's too late for this one!)

I've been walking by the Town's collection of portable toilets for about a month now. I finally noticed the name of the rental company was a play on words - A Royal Flush. It's funny how some businesses can get away with bizarre names - particularly in the er, waste management section. Don's Johns always struck me as amusing. A web search for them shows Elliot Loohire, American Johnny, Spanky's Portable Services, It's my Potty, Dirtpile . . .

Then there's the dog waste removal services. Doody Calls, Poop Scoop King, Scoopy Doo . . .
Although pet related companies are generally more inventive with their business names in general. I noticed that with the Dog Expo footage we got from the Festival.

The naming of a business is a difficult matter. It has to appeal to your clients, or convey what type of business you're in. It also needs to be general enough so that if you decide to branch out later on, you can carry that name with you.

My dad and I joke a lot about starting a production company, and between our jokes we came up with a logo. He goes by the user name of matchbox, (he'd be Matchbox Productions) while I tend to go with a lucky bug/cricket type theme. Sooo - our logo would be a matchbox with a picture of a cricket on it. I'm always torn between Lucky Bug and Morningstar, though . . .

Feeling rotten. Since I'm cranky, I might as well gripe about my dreams again.

There was the dream where I tried to behead Adrian Paul. (it's rather difficult to behead someone taller than you.) I only succeeded in stabbing him in the throat a few times. A morbid celebration of finally finishing the first Highlander season? I don't know why movies should affect my dreams. My work has got me so tuned into the production aspect of them that it's a wonder I pay attention to the plot.

That dream sort of shifted into me in the kitchen, being taught to dance the minuet by my dad. He claims he can dance, though I've never seen him . . . although he did once belong to a square dancing club. I didn't mind this one, it was kind of funny.

Then there were the two nights I dreamt about Erik. I haven't seen or heard from him in nearly two years, why in the world would I dream about him now? I suppose these could count as nightmares, since he behaved exactly the same way in my dreams as he always did in person. One was partly a memory - a repeat of the time he slapped me. Then he went into my grandmother's house to wait for a bus ride home. (her old house in Arlington - I ALWAYS dream about that house!) The other, we were in the haunted house where we used to work, he had his arms around me and his chin resting on my shoulder. "This is nice, isn't it? You like it? too bad." he said, then pushed me away.

Now before you start shaking your head at me about why I put up with this kind of treatment (and that was mild) for over three years, I will point out he wasn't like this all the time. Ok, so it was more like two thirds of the time. However, he was one of the few people I knew who kept his promises to me. If he said he would do something, he did it. Of course, he lied about everything else . . .

Ooh, yes, so I see. I'm ranting again. Don't mind me. I've found that blog ranting is really very refreshing and I always feel much better afterwards. I've never really been able to rant about him, I suppose my pain and my pride get in the way. Everyone else saw him for what he was and disliked him intensely. I saw what he was, too, but kept forgiving him for it and ignoring everyone's comments, thinking that he'd change if I could convince him to do it. Oh he changed, all right.

He got worse.

I could go on at length about the rotten things that happened. I won't. For one thing, that's what he always did, and for another, it'll only make me bitter again. (bitterer?) Instead, I'll state the two positive things that I got out of that relationship.
He taught me how to drive. (and certainly gave me enough opportunities to practice!)
A love of all types of music. (He listened to EVERYTHING, and was always eager to share something new or different.) There. Two good things about him that affected me positively. No more ranting.

I don't think I'll sleep tonight.

There's times in life when your world just stagnates. The same faces, places, ideas, patterns . . . you get completely sick of them. You feel a desperate need to CHANGE something, anything.

I keep going through that. It seems to be happening more often now. Every few months. Little things, big things, something's got to change around me. Something has to be different, even if it's something as simple as not wearing a watch.

I suppose it's a good thing, in some ways. Sometimes I wonder if I do unusual things just to test and see if I can still affect the world around me. I'm still here, y'know? I'm not invisible! Maybe my actions do mean something. Maybe I do want this, and look, I CAN make it happen. I can grow and change, and I don't have to wait for other people to change things.

That could be another part of it. All my life I've had to wait for other people. Often the opportunity passed by and I never got to do some things at all. There were a lot of broken promises. It's why I didn't get my driver's license til I was 20, and why I'm wearing braces at 25. Oh, Elaine's very patient, she won't mind, she can be put off. Maybe later, dear.

Unfortunately for those who think that way, Elaine's changing. Frustration and cynicism have been building up for quite some time now. A nearly fatalistic view of life - I'm never going to be this young (or this thin) again. If I don't do these things now, make those changes, I may never have the opportunity again.

Perhaps this is the biggest change of all - changing my view on life. If I can do that, I can accomplish a lot more. Conquering fears and being able to face challenges with confidence . . . not exactly something I could do in the past. I've changed a lot these past five years. I look forward to more. The world may have nothing to fear from me, but I'm certainly not going to fear the world.

It seems Walmart has started their own online movie rental service. The monthly fee is lower than Netflix, too. I'm not sure if I want to switch. The price is nice, but it's, well, Wal-Mart. They claim to have 14,000 titles.

I've been trying to clean my car since Friday. So far I've managed to buy some car cleaning stuff, put fuel injection cleaner in the tank, and polish the interior with Armor-all. Oh, and clean the windows from the inside. I keep getting interrupted. For instance, right now it's thundering, and I can't find the mini shop-vac. (It could be ANYWHERE!)

I'm also in some sort of intense cleaning mode. I think it started the day after the festival ended, and I saw the mess left behind by the volunteers. Sure, I could have just put stuff back, but I saw the need to make it obvious where things should go. Organization is a vital, vital thing. Now I find myself trying to clean wherever I go.

I know. I'm a nut case. Take advantage of it while you can!

Sunday's Below The Beltway by Gene Weingarten is good and very true. I may have to go look for his new book.

hmm. Mom hasn't said a word to me all day. What'd I do?

My allergies are going crazy. I think it might be from dust? Also limping a bit - I pulled a muscle in my leg earlier and it's just now starting to hurt. (must be getting old, complaining about aches and pains . . . ) It's better than a charley horse in the calf, I must admit.

I'm working on a story project, planning to post it in a weblog format. That'll be my third blog, once I get it going. Could be interesting . . .

What can I say? I'm a proud aunt.

My mother has discovered a new quote that she seems to like very much - she's been saying it all week.

"Save a horse - ride a cowboy."

I've decided I don't want to know where she heard it or why she likes it.

Ronald Reagan's weeklong funeral ceremony has provided fascinating insight into death and traditions in the US. A lot of planning took place, although I suppose they did have some 10 years to prepare. Everything seemed to be carried out very respectfully. (although I still have some issue with carting his body all the way to the east coast and back. However, I just read that Lincoln's body took a 20 day train ride around the US, so I suppose it could be worse.)

So how many men carried Reagan's coffin? I would assume the same protocol took place at each transfer, and 8 men carried his coffin from point to point? That would mean . . .

8 from the funeral home to a hearse
8 from the hearse to the airport in CA
8 from the Andrews Air force to a hearse
8 from the hearse to the gun cart
24 from the steps of Capitol to the Rotunda
24 from the Rotunda to the bottom of the Capitol steps. (into a hearse? I missed this part)
8 from a hearse to the National Cathedral
8 from the Cathedral to a Hearse
8 from the hearse to the airplane at Andrews
8 from the airport in CA to the hearse
8 from the hearse to the funeral
8 from the funeral to the final burial spot

That's at least 128 bearers. I may have missed a few stops. They may have used some of the same people.

I know, I know. I'm being disrespectful again. Maybe I just have a morbid fascination for funerals? I do think it'd have been an honor to be one of those men, or one of the honor guards in the Rotunda. It's highly unlikely that there will be another funeral to match this. It says a lot about the man himself.

Movie Review: Cowboy Bebop

A fascinating piece of work. I only saw part of the series, which I'm planning to fix. (It's been added to my list!) There's a lot of artistry involved, very detailed, shaded backgrounds. The plot is simple enough - Bounty hunters set out to save the world from a bioterrorist (and cash in on the bounty). It flows well with what I remember of the series.

It can be a bit jarring to see those beautiful backgrounds with the somewhat cartoonish characters, but you learn to adjust. Once you get to know them, you don't mind Spike's overly long legs or Ed's boneless body.

The graphic on the right is from Crystal Dreams, which no longer exists on the web. Or if it does, I can't find it, but I sure which I knew where it was! She had some great graphics. I may have adopted illegally, but I'll take it down when Crystal Dreams comes back online . . . I'd even offer web space for her!

I watched the Reagan ceremonies yesterday, and tuned in to C-Span today to watch all the people going through. A LOT of people. Dad went through this morning, and said it was a two and a half hour wait. Everything was very formal, very orderly, from the people filing through to the changing of the honor guard every half hour. Every once in a while somebody 'important' would come in, and would be allowed to get closer to pay their last respects.

Dad and Mom were watching, too. Dad was making political commentary, I was armchair directing, and Mom was commenting on the people and the ceremony. We're all insane and probably being very disrespectful, but at least we were spending family time together.

I still want to see what kind of television production system is installed in the Capitol! There's obviously some sort of surveillance camera installed in the Rotunda ceiling, and evidently in a few other places. They've been filming live since Wednesday evening. You can tell it's not a totally automated system. Someone, somewhere, is sitting in a control booth, filming alllll the people going through. A boring job, even the changing of the guard gets monotonous. We questioned everything, from the types of uniforms they were wearing to whether or not Reagan's body had ever left California, to what actually happened to those people who brought in cameras or left their cell phones on. (we heard a few.) During the lulls, Dad explained why it took so long to bring the casket inside to the Rotunda. Long narrow halls, very sharp turns, and a second set of stairs. 8 men, in full dress uniform, carrying 700+ pounds of coffin. Not an easy task.
He'll be laid to rest tommorrow evening in California, and the world can get back to bitching about the current president and the upcoming campaign. Won't that be such fun?

Lots of new additions . . .



This is Abbey, Ed's new Yorkie.



And these are Clara and Anna, Erin and Andrew's new kittens. Say hello!

Spent the day making messes. Starting with the car mess, which is now sitting in the shop. She's parked next to a few old Mustangs, so she's in good company.

I took a look around the studio and tackled a random part - the blue pegboard full of wires. There were also two containers of cables and wires and what all in the storage room, so I went through the basement, grabbed EVERYTHING that resembled a cable, and with cable ties and wire cutters, got started.

I should have written down an inventory. There were power cords, audio cables, video cables, audio/video cables, cables with BNC connectors, LAN cables, firewire and USB cables . . . and then the rest.

The rest falls into the category of what I would consider hacked cables. A large number of engineers have volunteered for us in the past, and they had no qualms about cutting cables up and rewiring them to suit their needs. Some split into two (or even three) different connectors, some had bizarre combinations of connectors, some had just been cut off at the end. We tied these up and threw them in a box, pondering interesting labels to put on it. "Only if you're desperate cables." "Freak cable combos" They were obviously meant to connect certain pieces of equipment, and are no longer useful.

It was a messy job. Some volunteers had the bright idea of using tape to wrap up the cables. Now, after a while, tape does one of three things. It: A. dries out. B. gets really, really slimy and gooey. C. does nothing. We encountered all three, but the slimy ones were the worst, as they left a residue on the wire. The pegboard is starting to look a lot better, though. YOu can see at a glance what's there instead of pawing through random wires, hoping to find what you need.

It's a start. There's a lot of junk to go through. By the time I'm done I'd like to have everything clearly labeled - a specific place for everything. Of course, no one will pay any attention to the signs, but at least I'll know where it should be.

Series Review: Stargate SG-1.

Recommended by most of the same people who recommended the Highlander series. I had seen one episode on TV a few years ago, but I can never catch it when it's on. I enjoyed it enough to finish all three episodes on the disc in one evening. A nice combination of technology and fantasy. And Richard Dean Anderson.

I don't like Sam yet. She's got that annoying "I CAN play with the big boys" attitude. Very agressive and in-your-face about petty stuff. Oh well. Robert keeps dropping hints that there's a good reason for it in later episodes, so we'll see . . . we also need to shut him up before he tells me everything!

My life may suck, but homemade strawberry shortcake can make it all go away.

At least, for a little while.

One weekend, and the entire basement is a disaster. Wires everywhere. Paper and bags everywhere. Deep scratches on my new media cabinet, trash scattered around the trash can, equipment randomly thrown back or set down on the floor . . . *sigh* And they wonder why don't volunteeer for the festival. One, I can't budge most of the equipment (I have the bruises on my knee to prove it!) and two, because I get to clean up afterwards!

Ugh. I have to come back at five. I think I better leave early and run some errands I've been trying to do for the past three weeks. (you'll know where I am by the trail of oil) If my intern shows up tomorrow he can start getting the editing room, storage room and studio back into shape.

Plenty to say, none of it here.

Here seems to be the only place that'll listen.

That's the nice thing about computers.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone arrived today instead of Monday via Netflix. (such timing!) I finally, FINALLY figured out who Professor Snape is. I knew I recognized him from somewhere other than the HP movies, particularly the voice. He played Alexander in Galaxy Quest - the actor who plays the alien doctor on the space tv series. Now I know why I couldn't place him. In that movie he wears a fin-like headpiece the whole time. IN HP he has a lot of hair. (It makes a difference!) A great actor.

I often wonder if I have some sort of daemon following me around. He delights in tormenting me. You'd think, after the first time, I'd learn to recognize him and stay away. But no, I keep thinking, "oh, it's not going to happen again, that demon's had his fun with me, surely he's gone on to torment someone else by now." Alas, no, he sticks close by, laughing and waiting.

The least he could do is come up with different ways of torture each time. Or is tried and true the best way to go? 'Well, I know THIS hurts her - let's do it again!' Is the variety in changing the people involved? In the horror of my realization that I've walked into the same stupid trap that I thought I had escaped from and had no intention of going back into? Doubling the pain, using fresh experiences to dredge up the old memories that had faded, and then throwing both together to scream about in her mind?

The scars are old, and deep, but they had healed. I don't want a repetition. Once was enough. I don't want to be reminded of what happened, I certainly don't want to experience it again. I don't want to think I'm about to go through it again. I want to be wrong, I still apparently want to have faith that there's still people out there who aren't there just to torment me in one form or another.

I can't take much more of this.

I can't.
I can, I don't want to.
I know I should.
I'd survive. It just isn't pleasant for a while.
Your sanity's pretty much gone anyway, what else do you have to lose?
I need a patronus.

Movie Review: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

They certainly have the look-and-feel of the books down pat. The story runs simply and smoothly, but they do show lots of little details.

Personally I would have made the dementors more fluid - they looked like dry old rags, I always pictured them more like thick smoke, whispy, smooth, graceful.

It's funny how many different ways werewolves can be depicted. Every movie shows them just a little bit differently. In this one he was not very doglike, a bizarre combination of wolf and man that, when you think about it, makes sense. It just didn't strike me as very traditional. Most movies/books have them turning completely into a wolf.

The main characters, at this point, have finally gotten the hang of their parts. They're growing up fast, though - hopefully they'll be able to finish the series. I know they're working on the fourth one now, so they're nearly caught up. Of course, by that point, JK Rowling will have finished number 6. I hope!

I STILL enjoy the books better than the movie.

Slashdot has an article and discussion concerning what happens to your computer data when you die. This is something that hasn't really come up in any major way. After Joyce's sister died, and Marvelous Bob's author committed suicide (it's been a sad week) I keep thinking about what to do with MY data. It leads me to think of all the places I'm registered at (more places than I can remember!) and all the passwords and other stuff.

Ideally, I would want someone to go through and unregister my accounts at these places, and then erase my hard drive - or bury it with me. For my web site, I'd like somebody to post a death notice in my blogs or on the main page. I'd also want someone to contact my Internet friends. Lastly, I would want to designate someone to give away my items in the Realm. All of this would require lists - of logins, passwords, emails, and friends.

My real life stuff? That'd be a bit harder. It would also depend on who I know at the time of my death. I would like for my cousins to have my great grandfather's dollhouse and the furniture he made. My miniatures are my assets - some of it will be worth quite a bit. Particularly that dollhouse. The rest? Well, if you want it, you're going to have to ask or sneak in right after the funeral. My spirit will be at Town Hall, merrily haunting the place.

In the meantime, I'm going to have to generate that list.

I've worked here for four and a half years. This is the first time I haven't been able to find a place to park! The carnival takes up the entire municipal lot. The farmer's market takes up Station Street from Elden Street to Lynn Street. The thrift shop is open today. The parking garage is being blocked off for tonight's events - a utility truck was installing concrete barriers and a pass-thru poll and taking its sweet time about it. All the other spaces available are two hour parking, and most were filled with people going to the thrift shop and the farmer's market. Police are monitoring all the activity and highly likely to be eager to ticket. I finally gave up and went to my grandmother's house to park. Mom had to drop off some shirts to the florist, so I grabbed a ride back from her.

At least I got to test the new fluid in my car with lots of turns. One noise has been taken care of.

Crazy, crazy stuff. Help!

Ahh, nothing like rotten dreams and a charley horse in the leg to start your morning.

Are dreams a reflection of real life? Does life pattern itself after dreams? Is my subconscious mind attempting to warn me of things I don't notice during the day? Was I actually asleep, or are my dreams actually waking life?

bleah.

There is no such thing as a quick trip to Walmart.

I not only have the power steering fluid, but oil, oil and air filters, a new pair of shoes, the fifth Harry Potter book and the Bedazzled movie. (hey, it was only 6 bucks for the DVD!)


On the way home, I couldn't help but notice the full moon, very large in the sky, with clouds drifting by in front of it. Incredibly peaceful. I wanted to find someplace to sit, remove all the trees and the noise, and just watch the clouds drift by. *sigh* At least it would have guaranteed me a few minutes of mental quiet.

Well, that was embarrassing. The fluid didn't even come up to the ADD line. I think I need to make a quick trip to the store . . .

Long day. I was already stressed from the weekend and yesterday. Then I had to be up and dressed early because the plumber was coming "sometime before 9" to install my new sink. So I ended up at work early and left late due to last minute voiceovers for the last minute history promo. Which we need to assemble tomorrow - and hopefully finish. And then the festival starts. We're low on volunteer responses, I may end up doing camera. I don't like doing tapings, I prefer to be in post-production. It's going to be a long, long, weekend.

On top of everything else, my car has started making this moaning, whining noise, particularly when it goes around corners. I need to stop asking people their opinion. I've heard everything from ball bearings to joints to shocks. My personal favorite is that it just needs power steering fluid. That's a cheap easy fix I can do so I don't have to deal with evil, evil car repair people. I need to go check out the fluid levels. I also need to get it inspected sometime this month. I hope it passes. She's really getting up there, and I readily admit I don't take care of her like I should. Shopping for a new car sounds like another nightmare. I LIKE my Sunbird. She's been the perfect car for me these past four years. And they don't make them anymore. *whimper*

Movie Review: The Day After Tomorrow

What would happen if . . . the ice age suddenly swooped in on modern day Earth?

Seems to be the reason this movie was made - someone grabbed a 'what if' and ran with it. Along the way they stole the special effects department and a few script writers who didn't follow enough what if's all the way through.
The characters were ok, but there were too many of them featured. The guys in the United Kingdom, the Japanese guy with the cell phone, the astronauts, the little boy with cancer . . . too many characters, not enough fleshing out of any of them.

They should have embellished the relationship between the father and son a bit more. A big fight, strained relationship, something to give him a good reason to travel 300 odd miles on foot through the world's deadliest snowstorm just to get to his son. "He's my son and I promised I would" just doesn't cut it with me. I was wondering what he was planning to do when he got there. Shovel? Bring pizza, bottled water, toilet paper? It seemed to me a foolish risk - he told his son to sit tight and wait it out, why didn't he listen to his own advice?

Other than that, brrr. I felt cold halfway through the movie and shivered through the rest of it. Special effects are always fun.

My insanity and stupidity affects many aspects of my life. I either misheard or my mother is just as insane. It was the other Dave who fought and lost with the lawn mower. Yeesh. So send your thoughts to Gilbert, not Sullivan. Or as I'm sure he'll be affectionately called in the future, Lawnmower Man.