badgerbag: messy, surly, full of books

winding down a little

A nice day spent winding down with Susan Kitchens in my kitchen. We surfed around, read stuff to each other, did a goofy photoessay on using the "natural" sweetener (mugging with splendid irony), washed dishes, and ate guacamole. I think we both wrote a lot and told a bunch of stories. I promised her the story of the Fremont Hills, the time I realized I was being a total asshole and must figure out how to be more of a grownup.

then hanging with Moomin. (In the morning we read Tarzan. In the afternoon we had a long discussion of what was Cool and what was Not Cool. )

Then we saw Minnie briefly... all too briefly alas ... and took off to Dragonboy's house for Jo Spanglemonkey's birthday collage-making. I was cranky in the car. My stomach is back to hurting. I decompressed desperately with some "Discover" magazines and then made 2 lovely collages for Jo. Realized things about my collagemaking process. Talked about science fiction books with the Hippie and his friend whose name I forget. Played with Sophie, Eliz, Moomin, Dragonboy, and the other two extremely awesome sisters outside - we had complicated crabapple wars.

I felt happy and centered again tonight, but I still need a whole day of lying in bed reading Pollyanna's School Days and What Katy Did and Herodotus, maybe with some introspective crying, before I feel like myself again. I do like being "on" and energized and thinking and talking and meeting a ton of people - I love, love, love it - but then I tend to overdo it & collapse. Must rest tomorrow so that I don't collapse.

Regendering Dave Winer

I love men's epiphanies! Especially when they're sweet and have utopian visions of collective social action - that rocks. I strongly believe in this:

Neither of our work is done, but I have a strong feeling that the connection betw Grace and myself is going to create a path that lots of men and lots of women go down, working together, to make the world a happier, more fair and better-running place.

But I have some problems with the tone of the article and want to pick on Dave a little - and on various other men whose names I don't remember. It is not like Dave is an especially awful example of sexism - quite the contrary - it's just that he's visible. Plus, he can take it.

I promised Dave that my jackbooted feminazi foot would be gentle, this time. Even perky! I'll try! I'll show him my underwear and giggle while I explain what yanks my chain.

So here is an opportunity for some more learning... let's look at Dave's take on BlogHer, regendered:

Post BlogHim Thoughts

They are beautiful hunks, but not like like booth bimbos, more like Thomas and Louis. So you got a great ratio, and they're smart and driven, but that's not all -- they're also bloggers! Which means I don't have to explain what blogging is.

Heh heh... Read it and think about the places where the language is off-key & think about why that is. It does have a tone that Dave expected to feel unwelcome, or expected to be surrounded by unattractive, frowning bitches? Or feels that his readers might have that expectation and he wants to reassure them that it's not true?

I can't even start in on the stuff about how the 20 to 1 gender ratio was heaven for men. Grrrrrreat! Because women exist to make men feel loved and comfortable!

I'm just trying to imagine ever feeling like this at a conference or workplace full of men and I'm coming up short. There's hostility in those situations, but it's mostly about having your "self" be invisible - about men automatically paying more serious attention to each other's ideas and opinions; like there's a game field where they interact (homosocially) and their attention to women, if it exists, takes place off that field. It's being at a meeting and saying something that is ignored, and then a man repeats it 5 minutes later and everyone attributes the idea to him. It's being at Bloggercon and the IRC channel being full of comments on the female Bloggercon attendees' looks - along with links to photos of them in their underwear. Was there a BlogHer backchannel where we compared the men's looks, and bodies, and winning smiles, and how cute they are when they cock their head to the side and giggle, and gossip about their qualities as ex-boyfriends of one or the other women in tech?

But every guy who's talked with me about Bloggercon has talked about how *I* was fierce and scary on the IRC channel - because I pointed out sexism - and even then I hear how they're surprised that they consider me nice-looking, or that I'm smiling at them, or they even flirt and tell me that they wonder why they are always attracted to fierce scary feminist women: they make sure to let me know that even my empowerment and anger, to them, is a sexual commodity.

There is a subtext in what Dave says that if women aren't sexy, flirty, smiling, glad to see him, and good-natured, then they're not worth listening to, or they're not going to be listened to. There is a message for women in that pervasive societal message. I feel sure he didn't mean that - but honest to god that's how it comes off to me.

If I expected men - in tech or anywhere - to be sexy, flirting, good-natured, smiley, welcoming, and happy to see me, I'd be waiting a long time . . . Do men compliment each other at conferences on their friendly sexy smilyness? I'd like to see it.

So with that in mind, why do I flounce around in ball gowns? Okay... number one, it's fun. But two - it doesn't matter if I do or not. I can dress utterly butch in my jeans, techie polo shirt, belt, leatherman tool, and boots, not smile or cock my head to the side, and just be "neutral" -- and still be dismissed, not included, sexually harassed, paid less, and the target of misogynist jokes. In fact, the butcher I dressed in tech, and the more serious I acted, the more misogynist jokes I was subject to hearing - I was expected to participate in them to prove I was one of the guys. Even though my girl cooties would never, ever, go away. Since it doesn't matter . . . as many women who either butch it up a little bit or who dress in professional-lady drag discover. . . I might as well do whatever the hell is fun for me - which includes ball gowns, bikinis, nakedness, suits, and scruffy jeans with tshirts. It would be nice if men were also "free" to play with all those images and identities for themselves. But because of misogyny & patriarchy, they aren't. It's so awful to be girly that most men don't dare.

I'd like to challenge any men in tech who are reading this to think about their very own workplace. How much do the men get paid and how much do the women get paid? Why? Are all the women in lower positions and the men in higher? Anything you can do about that?

Do you get asked, guys, during your techie job interviews, and networking events and stuff, if you're married and if you have kids and if you're planning a family? Are you ever present at a conversation where men wave their hands and dismiss some woman b/c she will probably just have babies anyway and then be less productive or involved at the workplace? I've been there for those conversations.

So, saving the world is important, helping disaster victims is also important, but look a little closer to home. Look in what is in your own power. Next time some other dude says something messed up... speak up and call them on it... you can do it gently, just by asking them a question, like "Do you think it's okay to say that in front of me? Why?" You'll find out then, probably, that just questioning as nicely as possible will get you called the PC police. But it will also get you any women in earshot thanking you privately later.

We've all heard this rant before. I do feel like I have to keep saying it, though mostly I try to move on to focus on other women, what they're doing, and positive changes and action.

Things *are* changing, and men are coming along on a journey of their own thought and consciousness of these issues... it's nice to see.

refreshed in spirit if not in body

A little hard-ass blogging later, with Rook and Susan K. all lying on the couch with computers... It's past midnight and I look up in consternation.

Me: Hey. Ow. It's late. I forgot to move, or pee.

Susan: Well, if you've got a three-post bladder, use it.

the good and the tired

next time... i sleep more!

blogher. woolfcamp. dinner at susan m.'s house. I was ... for once... actually too busy to blog.

intensity junkie - on overload.

Tomorrow I'm sure I'll be bright & bushy and will be able to tell all the wonderful stories of this weekend!!! I'm so grateful for BlogHer, for everyone I talked with - so many mind-blowing people - and for everyone who came to my house for a whole day of talking at an amazing level of intensity, passion, vulnerability, and honesty.

woolfcamp sunday !

It's okay to drift in late, y'all. The info for Woolfcamp is at the wiki on Socialtext and under "location" you can find directions & etc.

Do bring *chairs* if you live nearby! folding chairs!

xox

- badger

Overwhelmed by Blogher

I had a great time yesterday. The podcasting workshop was particularly good! I liveblogged it over here. My blogging is a bit slow because my "g" key doesn't work right. So if anyone is going to the Apple store... I need a small-size iBook G4 keyboard!!! hell!

I am mad at myself for not derailing Marc during the tagging thing and because of my conversation with Chris Heuer, realized I had to go personally talk with Marc. Did that. I'll write more later. Why can he not see how much space and time he takes up? That, if he's talking nonstop in a room full of people, interrupting the panelists, answering questions that women in the audience are asking of the panelists, and generally never shutting up about his own rather high theory view of the politics of who owns tagging, then he is *shutting down a different discussion* that would have happened - one where the women in the room might have had a different focus of what they wanted to say. I think next time I will just stand up and say "Marc, love your ideas, but please shut up and let someone else talk now." It was weird to try to say this to his face, politely and at length and with more clarity than I'm typing it here, and then to see that it just didn't get into his head. He thought I was disagreeing with what he was saying! No... actually not. But the reaction of much of the room... would have been "wow, sounds complicated, I guess I don't know very much about this stuff... " and to ignore the loud bellowing dude.

Anyway. That was my one "annoyed" moment yesterday and otherwise it was all golden.

No, I lie. Some of the marketing stuff was annoying. The "water! for women!" ... um. You know how some stuff marketed to women is actually useful, and some of it blows? what can I say... the gm brochure had the tone of "women! can drive!" ??!! and while I like fancy bath stuff, cool, the Saturn stuff was much cooler and had a little memory stick in there. Yes, it's a tech conference, we might like some tech schwag! you think?

Next year: hot pink ethernet cables in every blogher bag...! instead of diet propaganda and pasties... well no. Actually I like the pasties. They shoudl just make some that look like computer motherboards, and fake chainmail. Then we could run around the conference with robot boobs!

At some point in the afternoon I went all deer-in-the-headlights & ran off to the pool party. The mommyblogger.com people had temporary tattoos! We all made fun of the "nippies" boob bandaids, but were fighting over them at the same time. I have pink star ones.

Then a strange dreamlike swirl of people talking with me and me only vaguely knowing who anyone was. I showed Daily Dose of Denise my underwear, finally. The >underwear thing was hilarious though I know it must make a large bit of the conference wonder WTF... what's with the raucous dumbass... "How sad that that girl needs attention so bad she shows everyone her underwear!" No... I just like to be bold and silly.

People kept coming up to me and saying "Badger! come over here! This person wants to interview you!" or suddenly cards would whip out and it would be a Media Person. Talked to McVlog dude - who is he? What? What? For real? Or is he sort of a nut case? Does it even matter? Met Lauren from Feministe, & Lindsay, but was in full-on "stunned by social activity" brain death. I deal with stress or anxiety by silliness - so then I dressed up in a ball gown for SJ and Minnie to push me in the pool.

Barb Dybwad glowing described world of warcraft and its beautiful life-sucking MUDdiness.

Yay, room service is here! SJ and Minnie and Kari and I hung around drunkenly telling stories of jobs we'd had. SJ had one at a Lone Star Cafe where whenever a certain song played, about a woman getting run over by a train, they'd have to get up on the tables and do a little choo-choo dance. In short-shorts. Another one of us was fired from Chevy's because her skirt was too short, though she was required to wear this low-cut hoochie-mama off-the-shoulder "Mexican wedding" shirt. "My Humps" played on repeat. Minnie's a belligerent, punchy, funny drunk. "Where's my room key! What the fuck are you looking at! The fuck!"

I haven't been able to blog much because I've been talking nonstop. SJ and I explained the endings of our first marriages to each other at 7am. It's intense here all the time!

one of those "coincidences"...

city lights reading
Originally uploaded by Liz.

I can't help it if we both dress up like Velma and Action Girl were in an accident on the way to a ska concert in 1981... that's just how it is. So.... both in the skinny ties, loosely knotted (same tie from hot topic in ska-checkered, mine white, hers red)... black jackets... short black skirt sort of thing... red and black... in fluevogs and believe it or not I had black and red socks rolled up in my backpack for when it got chilly later in the evening. The book sounds extremely fabulous (marxist analysis of U.S. monster movies) and I had many interesting conversations over the course of the evening but will I have the energy to blog it properly?! Anyway, you'll see what I mean about the weird outfit matching because it's my same outfit for tomorrow. It was pretty funny and people must think we are (or I am) either totally retarded or kind of psycho. I prefer to think we just happen to share a similar, extremely fabulous aesthetic....

- write about the book / reading on feministsf.net

- read the book, send it to Rolf

- do some reading, write up stuff that anne is working on with the guatemalan archives (wow - and I found it comforting that the data is being preserved in such a careful sensible useful way)

Dear Appleworks,

Why do you blow so bad?

"Thanks",

- badgerbag

stickers!!!

Hey! Who sneaked over to my house and left me an enormous book of "subversive stickers"? With just a post-it note that says "badgerbag" ??

Whoever you are, I love you! Now... which one... ones... to put on my car?

I'll bring the book to bad moms coffee so we can all cool up our laptops. I had this whole pile of stickers to give to Elkit last night but forgot they were in my bag.

the outfit of punky frivolity

Badgermama
Originally uploaded by Liz.

Hey, I think it came out damn cute. And usually I hate pictures of myself laughing really hard, but this one is good. My hair came out that way accidentally, out of the shower. If only I could make it that way on purpose... kind of mildly fucked up but not too explode-y.

The dinner was great & I'll post about it in a minute over here.

must...get...out!

My least favorite kind of day - hanging around the house with listless, demanding, cranky children who didn't get enough sleep, no matter how lovely they are. Where they fall asleep with their faces on the Parcheesi board and turn all sweaty and clammy, and demand juice boxes which they leave 3/4 full on all possible non-wipe-cleanable surfaces and then 10 minutes later demand a new one. OMG I'm so out of here. Am whipping out early and will do something beautifully random San Jose-ward before the mommyblogger margarita dinner thing, the first pre-blogher mayhem. I regret to say I have tried on 5 different shirts. Rook is laughing at me. Well, with a pink polka dotted skirt and crinoline you need just the right punkness to balance it out or it would be too frou-frou.... spikes and chains would not go amiss. But when would they ever?

peace, out...

women are animals

This Readers' Digest article from 1966 really shows the ways that patriarchal discourse makes women more animal than human.

Human = man. Women... are something else, defined by body and instinct. Maybe not *quite* animals, but awfully close. These sorts of guides and manuals (I'm obsessed with them...) reveal a lot of ugly things about the ways that gender works to dehumanize women.

responsible

There's nothing like being all responsible and good and stuff to make me want to bust loose and do foolish wild rollercoastery things. At least I keep it reasonably in check, don't drink, no hang gliding, and the impulse to have extra children is controlled by my having everyone else's kids for an afternoon or evening.

They're so great - Honestly of course I have regrets about not having more, but I can't do everything with my life at once and so I really made up my mind to enjoy being a fun auntie and I appreciate getting to be part of their lives and watch them grow up - I really love it.

Nevertheless my thoughts turn lightly to the glittery talky weekend and how I'll blog everything non-stop. Melissa Gira and I plot our evil spin-the-bottle plots. Also I'll go to this City Lights book release party & reading somehow in the middle. Out on the town all weekend!

goal-oriented

Hmm, well, a couple of people let me know that there's a women-only party in San Jose on Friday night. Perhaps a BlogHer posse might want to go with me & play spin the bottle. it looks to be 35 bucks - a bit steep.

you know who to email!

Oh the heinosity!

Or we could just get the brazen hussies and fabulous sluts of Blogher together in a hotel room and play spin the bottle there. I'll bring the bottle!

o great blogosphere

Does anyone live down near Boca Raton or Miami? Might you know someone there, someone with a lick of sense, who might go and be with my grandma in the emergency room... Is this nuts to ask? who might just be like "hi, i'm a friend of your granddaughter's..." and hold her hand?

I hope my aunt is going to be on her way out there asap from los angeles. but i can't stand the thought of my grandma in the hospital with no one with her.

aaaaaaaaa

I have often thought we need a network of people willing to do this for each other in different cities... the integry network

no goal

It's funny - I have no goal in mind for Blogher. Just to talk to a lot of people and blog up everything interesting. I don't have any preparing to do other than making some cards - I'm not trying to sell my blog content to anyone - I'm not on any panels - I get to just hang out and have fun. I do this at most conferences but somehow there's always been an intense "preparation phase". If anything I'm out of the loop of it.

Maybe I'll set a small goal of passing out info on Blogday (coming up Aug. 31st) to try to get more participation in that.

raccoon appearance

Last night around 10:30 we were all out in the yard staring at some chittering baby raccoons, with their mom worried on the roof. Then I realized we were all completely naked, except Moomin who had on underwear. A funny moment! I love my co-housemates! Yay naked!

So since there's still two baby raccoons, the dead one in the gutter must have been #3 or else from a different family.

soundtrack for the week

Should include "Too Hot" by the Specials & Velvet Underground "Cool it Down"...

Hey, Woolfcamp!

Okay! We're having the 2nd WoolfCamp at my house in RWC. It's not super beautiful like Grace's house, but it's homey, comfortable, and there's a lot of books, & wireless.

This coming Sunday, the day after BlogHer. For months now all time has been measured by "When BlogHer Is". We figured we'd get some out of town people & we could sort of debrief or continue the giant bloggity multiple orgasm that is BlogHer, because... why stop?

Basically it's a bunch of us having an all day blogging Thing, unconference style, strongly womancentric/feminist but not women only. The focus is on blogging as creativity. Massively touchy-feely. More intense than a meetup - we will brainstorm ideas for discussions to have and then make a schedule for the day and split into different groups. Lots of down time, probably a bunch of kids underfoot, food & wine, toenail-painting, disco dancing in between the discussions, demos, or workshops.

Come on over to the wiki and sign up if you want to come - not necessary to be part of any clique or part of BlogHer - half the people won't know each other - queer/trans friendly - kid-friendly - newbie-friendly - etc. Do not fear the wiki - the wiki is your friend. Or... if you do fear the wiki, email me at:

lizzard --- at --- bookmaniac.net

ridiculously hot

It's goofy hot again and getting worse. I'm mopping the floor, taking lots of showers, hosing off the house and patio every hour. We have Moomin set up to play gozilla in the bathroom sink - and then a movie.

Later - to Cyn's house for the air conditioning and some more Amber alternate history playing!

too hot

Hot Hot Hot -- To hot
Originally uploaded by Liz.

Well - some level of proof for you doubters from out of town.

109! That's just scary for anyplace that isn't the desert.

I'm going to the movies tomorrow - screw this!

It's still too hot to sleep.

You know how they tell you in survival books not to drink alcohol when you're freezing to death, because you'll freeze to death faster? So, isn't it logical that I should have a beer right now to cool myself down?

heat wave stupor

liz & liz
Originally uploaded by Liz.

Thanks to Liz Ditz... we spent the 105' heat wave day in a shady spot, in and out of her swimming pool... endless watermelon, chips & salsa, delish chicken salad which I long to try to copy... It was really nice! I felt sluggish, torpid.... not exactly sparkling with wit and charm... in fact was finishing the 4th book in the Ukiah Oregon series so didn't want to talk at all for at least an hour or two.

Liz has a lot of cool books and one of those rolly ladder things that goes along them.

As we drove home I felt a little bit tearful as I thought of the relationship she has with her daughter. I mean, clearly one has tensions... and yet... it's so amazing to me to see people who are involved with their kids' lives, who care about what they care about, parent/teenager who make an effort to please each other and to have a relationship... Without huge hostility. I kept just sitting there with my mouth open realizing, "oh... L. wants her daughter to stick around and hang out with us... and though she has plenty of teenagery things to do and her own car (a funky painted van) she is sticking mainly to be nice to her mom." And that her mom goes to all her shows, and ... jeez. Then to hear her talking nonchalantly about aikido competitions and her fights and how she's going on this overseas trip, and and and. Er, not to mention her horse. Whoa! A bit different from my teenage years? Like "Oh btw mom i need to go shopping for my trip.. and will you cook me a steak? By the way I'm going out. And tomorrow I'm going to the beach. " *boggle* I believe when I was her age, my longest conversations with my parents went like this:

"Whore! Cunt! Fucking little whore! You're not going anywhere!"
"Fuck off, I hate you, I'm not your prisoner!"
Run for door
Hideous physical struggle
I run outside to where I get in some fairly random high school guy's car and roar off in a cloud of Joy Division, because anything is better than dealing with these fucked up people who hate me

Anyway.

I love my parents and it's like a fabulous miracle to get along with them now. I want to be around people who have teenagers and who do things relatively right. Why do people go so insane about their own children, damaging them in the name of overprotection? Specifically... their girls. As I know, know, know, that if I had been a guy... none NONE of that shit would have ever happened with my parents. I don't dwell on it... I swear... but then I hang out with a nice-acting family and it comes right back to me and I think, WTF!!!???

Anyway again.

Hot, hot, hot. sweaty. I can't stand to have any part of my own body touch any other part of my own body. I have taken about 5 showers (cold ones) in addition to dips in the pool.

Estivating. Doesn't that sound good?

I think it's still 100 in my house. there's no breeze! I'm outside on my foam-cushion futon, getting mosquito bites in the dark. In only my underwear. Rook commented that there was a lot of hotness in our neighborhood, flattery which I'd appreciate more if we were in Alaska or Antarctica and I wanted to go anywhere near another person...

Girls on the Verge of being really boring

I'm nearly done with "Girls on the Verge" and am so annoyed with its author that I could slap her... could she possibly be more condescending, boring, and invasive to all the communities she dips into and insta-judges? I enjoyed the sorority chapter because at least in that one she questioned herself and whether what she was doing was ethical. But... only for a minute. She never seems to have any fun... or any respect for other people. Plus, nary an insight. It's all magazine-article fluff from the fluffiest of magazines.

And as for the marriage chapter & feeling all superior and pulling her lame classism on 20 year olds from the amazing height of her 27 year-old-wisdom ... ! fuck! annoying! Oh wait, I forgot she lives in NEW YORK... making her into Superiorgirl... who is able to tell when other people's relationships are thoughtless...

And who the hell grows up in San Francisco in the 90s and then goes to burning man and gets freaked out and scared b/c there's naked people running around? hello! big surprise! And the un-charming boast that she's gone as a woman alone to countries that are not recommended for women alone to travel in, but even so, burning man still scares her. OoooOOOOoooo... and then she has a shitty time and doesn't see anything interesting or talk to anyone interesting... what a surprise... b/c people like that take their own hell with them. I love making fun of Burning Man hippies too, for god's sake! But she does it in a super annoying way... with no capacity for enthusiasm and ... infinite ironic posing.

Pretty annoying when she decides that all the gang girls exaggerate & lie, because of how their survival depends on "their storytelling" or something... and so she checks with the police and parole officers for "the truth" without it occurring to her to question why she assumes the police will know, or tell, the truth...

What a dumbass.... going all old-school anthropologist on totally arbitrary groups of people.

over 100

It was certainly far over 100 degrees here today. Quite horrible! Really stunning!

It was near 110 on some guy's weather station up in Portola Valley - at least 105 in downtown RWC - whew.

Wen Spencer alien wolf series

Oh, so excellent! I just devoured Alien Taste and the book after it. Cracktastic, satisfying...The characters and the goofy plot twists completely sucked me in. I've been yelping and hooting with pleasure at it... The way Ukiah keeps going "Whew, good thing people just figure if there's anything strange about me, it's because I've been raised by wolves!" is hilarious. I'm a sucker for when people play with corniness & make it intelligent.

At the beginning - the very first chapter - I thought of the first chapter of Remains - very similar in setup so that you think you're reading a certain kind of airport novel plot line and you could read it in your sleep - so that if you're me, you feel faintly ill and want to throw the book across the room - and then it's NOT THAT story. Like being in an airplane that Spencer pulls out of a tailspin. In theory, someone will start the story and settle comfortably into that airport novel... and then get taken for a ride.

The plot is set up to deal with issues of race, mixed race/hybridity, native american history, memory, in some really excellent ways. Perhaps one could nominate it for a C.B. Award. Totally fascinating. There were interesting gender elements for me as well, not central to the book but... genre conventions twisted so that things that usually confront a female character were now something the male protagonist, Ukiah, had to deal with. Reproduction is key... But even aside from that it's pleasant to read a male character who wonders, "Oh... was that sexist of me to think?" He questions himself. (For good reason, because of patchy memory.) Very Vorkosigan-like. In fact these two books are uncannily Bujoldian in their approach to the story.

You have to be able to swallow the premise... the weak bit is how the other characters react to finding stuff out. They don't so much lose SAN points as do a barely perceptible double take: "Meep! Gross! Weird! Unbelievable! But... well, carry on then, right-ho!" Come to think of it... that's how I would react in that kind of situation, because I've read a lot of science fiction... and besides, probably a lot of it would make perfect sense considering he was raised by wolves.

- Hippie Astrophysicist Farmgirl Unitarian Lesbian Moms - check
- Studly vampirey innocent hero with heart of gold and strange powers (Oh! But of course! After all, he was raised by wolves! That explains it!)
- Leather-jacket-wearing, feral, slinky, biker gangs
- FBI agent chick tough as nails, calm, competent, and fierce, with sexuality intact
- Older private investigator guy whose wife is dead, father figure (hahahahaa!! oh the cliche!)
- Hideous, cold, slithering evil (complicated later in book 2)

The protagonist *likes* people... wants to think the best of them... in his own mind, automatically gives them agency, considers them as independent people... Unlike many other rather dull unlikeable heroes. It's his superpower. & gives the reader the key of how the story is meant to be constructed... the moral of the story comes through very clearly.

I enjoyed the fast pace & as I mentioned... the twists...

It would make such a fine tv series! Not a good movie - it's too complicated & the interplay between characters would be lost. Really, there is not a lot of reason for movies to exist in the form they do now. It's like expecting us to read only short stories - a freak of chance and time that the form took over as it did.

I felt too that I appreciated these books more because of having read a lot of comic books in the past year or so -- maybe they have given me a particular take on story structure & what heroism means...

appalling

Wow... it cost 12K to get my tubes tied? I don't get it... and they said it was more like 4K in the beginning. Moomin's delivery was like... 8K? and the ectopic pregnancy emergency surgery was around 10.

Just FYI, dear Internet. It's good to have insurance.

against the pompous the

Not the band The The - but the way people order in a restaurant. It still sounds pretentious and alien to me. "I'll have the bacon cheeseburger." why not "a bacon cheeseburger"? I can't stand it. Same with "translated from the Spanish". Why? "From Spanish" sounds less pompous.

waaaaaaah

One of the baby raccoons is dead in the gutter. Fuck! Too sad! The babies were so cute together.

The All-New Atom

A really good comic book! And it's a feminist take on an all-male story. I nearly died laughing when the old physicists invite the new young physicist to their basement poker-playing meeting where they exclaim about the sausages. It's a sausage party! Hahahaha! Tell me that wasn't on purpose.

Then Ryan (the physicist) spends some quality time butt-naked.

Woot!

The pacing is really good & fast, never boring... It stood up to a re-read, which I felt I had to do to try to get the 3 short prologue/flashbacks and the weird thing the taxi driver said. The haunting feeling that it might all become clear in the next issue! Of course it won't become clear... only more mysterious. I can't wait!

Is this real? Get on it, mommyblogger activists...

Great. We now legalize torturing children. Disabled children. In public schools.

Get this... it's an "emergency regulation" in New York State... to allow public schools to administer electric shocks, strangling, withhold water, do solitary confinement...

(i) application of noxious, painful, intrusive stimuli or activities intended to induce pain such as electric skin shock, ice applications, hitting, slapping, pinching, kicking, hurling, strangling, shoving, deep muscle squeezes or other similar stimuli;

(ii) any form of noxious, painful or intrusive spray, inhalant or tastes;

(iii) withholding sleep, shelter, bedding, bathroom facilities or clothing;

They outline this stuff as "not permitted" but then actually... the whole point of the law seems to be to say that it IS permitted if the district says that it is for a specific child. I love how it includes preschools....

Thanks to Body Impolitic for the link. "Thanks...." How will I ever sleep tonight?

Mommybloggers! And everyone! Please write about this, link to it, follow their recommendations. Call your own senators to protest - call newspapers. Surely the ripple of outrage will spread.

two asleep, one not

E. wants to go home (as usual, can't deal with thought of sleepover) but Sophie is fast asleep with the flashlight on and an x-men comic about Kitty Pride upside down over her chest. So cute!

I took her and Moomin for ice cream. They take it SO for granted! met Squid, Iz, Mali... went to the "vintage" and comic book collector toy store. No, we cannot buy anything, spoiled children who just had ice cream and candy!!

Off to my house for a peaceful hour of me cleaning and them playing. Sophie and I made a magic potion in an Orangina bottle: ketchup, soy sauce, coffee, juice, salt, pepper, and whatever else. Oh, and a cork which I wrapped with tape to fit the bottle.

Once Eliz. got here all hell broke instantly loose, in a good way, as there was a Giant Plan to dress in hero outfits to go on a quest. three kids all with requests at once, three or four changes of dresses, demands for all my fanciest shoes and platform boots, swords, jewelry, more potions, light-up tiaras, new batteries... Holy Crap. Since I'm a sucker and like to feel like Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, I complied.

The quest itself never quite happened. Instead we had sword battles! It was great entertainment! Nukie from next door came over, and Peanut. Moomin sat out the battles as announcer and judge: still a bit uncertain of heavy physical activity. I had one swordfight, in which a hurricane was thrown at me, by Eliz the magic-user, carefully off-center so that I wouldn't get a breathing space when the eye passed over me. Sophie let us know she was evil, evil, evil. Evil since birth. Naturally evil. Wielder of darkness and doom. A hideous miasma of pain and fear shadowing her every step. She fought with aggressive confidence forwards, backwards, and leaping... in my high heeled platform boots, size 8. Peanut is extremely eager to play with the big kids. They all... even Sophie... were kind to the baby!

Nukie will be a brilliant baseball player. He has amazing natural talent. He's huge, he stands like a pro - a lefty - and slugs the ball with a slight narrowing of eyes and grimness of mien. Could I find him a little league? OMG... I'm not joking, he's really good.

Finally, pizza. It was still 100 degrees out. I couldn't handle even the simplest chicken-nugget-cookery. Mostly wanted to sit in the shade and stick my feet in the plastic wading pool.

Much fuss over the need to have SODA NOW. It sounded good to me too. My plan was to make them clean up the yard and house first... hahahaha..... I ended up herding 4 kids into the Hole Foods for pomegranate sodas. By this time it was a little stressful to have them all at once, talking, going in different directions. Yes, I walked into the Hole in the sleazy thin bedroom dress (which, that's what it's for of course) and gold "whore's day off" shoes. Hello, world.

We got free cookies!

At home, there were more crazy demands: TV! More junk food! Gigantic plans! Oh, for pete's sake.... NO. 'I am not infinitely a sucker," I announced. "I am now switching from fun friend mode to "grownup mom" mode. You will clean up. You will get into your pajamas. You will brush your teeth. I will now WORK to make beds for you and clean up all the dresses. Harumph. Friend-Badger will return when these things are accomplished." After they were quiet in different rooms the administration of heavy doses of comic books quieted the savagery...

Sophie has large painful itchy bug bites, hive-like, on her thighs and chest. She now sleeps the sleep of the Benadrylled. It was kind of a scare for me because she was like, "I have a problem... I need... it's... itchy... and... it hurts a lot... " (said while doing sort of a horrible dance and grabbing her crotch) And me saying to myself silently, "please, god, let me not have to look at anyone else's child's privates. Especially after last week." Imagine my relief when it was bug bites on her legs... whew. Underwear, and sanity, were preserved.

It was good to spend the afternoon this way because it completely distracted me from my own racing thoughts. There was no time to think a single thing. Peculiarly relaxing on some level, like any demanding physical activity.

Woolfcamp afterglow is on

For the day after BlogHer ( Sunday, July 30th). Grace and I are looking at having it at:

- my house?

- teh space/hat factory?

- SF zen center?

But we're not sure yet.

What/who would you all like to see & do at Woolfcamp?

I'm a huge dork

pretty satellite antenna thingies
Originally uploaded by Liz.

Of course.. being me... I had a huge blast doing that interview. Am I such a freak that I find things like that fun & stimulating and after several hours am just like, "Wheee, bring it on!"

Now I'm all fizzy with ideas but can't blog them b/c they're so specific to that situation. Even if they don't hire me I'm sure some people liked the idea-generating machine. Also, I learned some things.

where I can see to vs. where I am

I got sidetracked tonight from what I meant to be reading - and ended up here on Wikipedia:

To the extent that a deep conceptual change involves importing practices and perspectives from one community of practice into another, such change involves what Wenger calls “boundary encounters.” Such encounters change the way each community defines its own identity and practice. Crucial to the success of the boundary encounter is the role of highly skilled “brokers”, who straddle different communities of practice and facilitate the exchange process.

“The job of brokering is complex. It involves processes of translation, co-ordination and alignment between perspectives. It requires enough legitimacy to influence the development of a practice, mobilise attention and address conflicting interests. It also requires the ability to link practices by facilitating transactions between them, and to cause learning by introducing into a practice elements of another. Toward this end, brokering provides a participative connection – not because reification is not involved, but because what brokers press into service to connect practices is their experience of multi-membership and the possibilities for negotiation inherent in participation.” (Wenger, 1998, p. 109)

Which is what I *want* to be doing -- and in some ways am doing -- but I'm not doing it well enough. Sustaining the negotiation process long enough to be a real participant. Hmmm. Sustained commitment is one thing I've been learning about - I usually fall short in the "insufficient reification" area too, but I've made huge progress. i.e. finishing projects, keeping up group collaborations & projects, publishing stuff... and somehow it all seems the same as in my problems with real life relationships too.

So for example with my efforts on Blogher I have put in a lot of work into looking, and reading, and then summing up a bit (where earlier in life i would have looked and read, but not said anything outside of my own journal) but I am not engaging deep enough, not going back to all the blogs I've talked about, which means what I'm doing is superficial and not participatory. But b/c I want to have a broad view, there is not time. I want to make the entry point for other people to engage more closely, that's the whole point of my metaphor about being a party host. Yet... I feel deep suspicion of what that does to me and my own depth of relation to the world, to other people, and to knowledge.

perfect beyond perfect...

The Littlest Existentialist... from elsewhere's blog!

So far today

- yardwork. weeding. cleanup of trash. sweeping.
- haul stuff in from car, haul stuff out to car
- clean out our two closets (finally!)
- assess shoes. There are none without major scuffs or holes. Hell!!!
- read, think about product management
- dishes. declutter kitchen
- more laundry (endless)
- duct tape leftover awning material to kitchen windows (temporary)

It's almost noon. Whew! I'm listening to the Jurassic 5, Jean Grae, and Vicious Pink. A strange combination of progressive hiphop and cheesy 80s new wave.

Now to continue with the reading, thinking, and note-taking. Should I haul Moomin to the city for shoe shopping and dinner with Chula? Or just wear the scuffy shoes tomorrow and stay home today? There's also one pair of non-scuffys, but they're platforms with heels and I'm not sure how much walking around I'll be doing. Hellsdale mall isn't going to cut it for shoes, nor Payless.

Big in Japan

We just got out the "Big in Japan" Fantastic Four comics to read them again! I like Seth Fisher's art a lot.

Moomin is completely in love with Droom, one of the Godzilla-y monsters -- when Droom falls in love with Iron Man and imagines their beautiful friendship.

thoughts on civility and class

I was thinking the other day (at the hospital) how politeness and civility are used to maintain class differences. The privileged are polite to mask power differences. For example class differences. If they are impolite it's not a huge disaster for them - they can just apologize and then they get extra points for being gracious. Politeness merely gives them a formula of how to act when you're not treating other people like human beings. If a working class person is impolite then it is a disaster for them and it's used against them to prove their inherent inferiority. Same for women and men, same for race.

yesterday's project is helping

fiddling with the hooks
Originally uploaded by Liz.

Oh ... and yesterday's Project to put up my shady awning is working well! It's way cooler in the house. By this time usually it's sweltering in here. Now there's shade over the whole west wall.

a formal feeling comes

More crazy 8s games this morning. I mooched around some more feeling weird and depressed.

I wish my mom lived here. It's just like the last couple of years she stopped being randomly mean -- no more tense sarcastic judgements & ridicule on me, so I don't have to be so defensive around her. Instead it was just like we were two reasonable people hanging out. Wow... Possibly being focused around something (i.e. helping Moomin get better).

The lingering depression is probably exhaustion still, and some level of being freaked out about the horrible torture of the hospital and seeing Moomin be so fragile & in danger. Of course those are the moments when you realize how fragile everything is and how scary it is to care about people. And the level of responsibility was scary... sustained. So, I'm just drained. Also weirdly lonely but also (uncharacteristically) misanthropic.

It would be really really nice to throw myself into work right now, to get out of this feeling, but it's still not possible. I am still uncomfortable focusing on myself if Moomin is not getting direct attention... he was so miserable... and he needs it.

Tomorrow I'll send him to camp at least for the morning. But again, I recognize what I'm feeling as mild depression b/c things that usually make me happy and excited aren't working. (Except raccoons. They still work.) Rook is even more in that state. Maybe over this week things will come back to normal.

I need a break and some fun but it's not going to happen. So, work will happen instead.

Moomin is so much better - no more pain meds, and he ate cereal with milk... well, enough for a bird... and half a bagel with cream cheese, and half an odwalla mango smoothie which I figure is nutricious. And a few m&ms and some juice. it's the most he's eaten in DAYS... he is scarily thin. He says no to popsicles and ice cream and chocolate. Bread and butter is a hit but it takes him about an hour to slowly mangle one slice of bread. Rice, pasta, all plain... in tiny portions, frequently. What I'm saying is, it's progress but it's a lot of work. I hate pressing people to eat. My theory now is that the more active he is, the more he'll want to eat.

I never want to hold anyone steady on a toilet again, ever in life... or hold them while they vomit... or make them eat... or wipe another person's butt... ever. My whole body aches from all the squatting and carrying... still. I keep bustling around the house and garden figuring it will work out the stiffness. I did a lot of weeding today while Moomin was in the hammock. Maybe some more bustling....shelving my books... fuck... it's the feeling like I just want to get in my car and drive for a long time, you know?

It was like infancy was - all the work - and exhaustion - but scarier obviously - and you can kind of mentally ignore an infant while you take care of it physically and hold it and stuff... but you can't ignore a big kid because it hurts their feelings and makes them hate you... just like it would with any other person. I want to make it up to him that he had to suffer so heinously. And that I had to be the one to do the hurting and medicine-giving and pushing him to do painful things. It's so good to hear him laughing... and him doing all the different voices as we read Fantastic Four and the Ant Men and Doctor Doom, and stuff!

I should quit whining, clean the house, play some more card games, and look forward properly to Blogher & Woolfcamp and the giant social whirl that next week will be.

more screaming raccoons

Then I went to the living room window because of the screaming mosh pit of raccoons & my mom hissed from the front room window, "you're scaring her!" So we turned off all the lights again and waited silently, standing on her pillow, for a long time while tiny chirruping baby raccoons tried to climb down the trellis. One of them had to be carried down. I felt so lucky to think that my mom was (of course) the sort of person to stand in the dark after midnight on her own bed trying to catch a glimpse of the baby animals that woke her up, without having to say anything.

pot after pot of coffee: baby raccoons!

Why did I drink that late afternoon coffee?

To see the baby raccoons, of course! OMG! Cute! Chirring as they trundle up the fence diagonal and then fall with a thud to the top of the sandbox... wild skittering... chirruping to the burly volkswagon-sized mama raccoon ... I watched them flail around for quite a while before they got up to the roof. Huddling and lumping, then an inquisitive pawstretch as their noses point in the breeze. Now they've scrabbled up to...

the roof of where my mom is (was?) sleeping.

Raccoons are loud!

If I had a piece of pizza handy I'd go feed it to them. Sweet wild creatures! I'll clean up all your poop until you learn to behave yourselves - just don't eat my cats, please.

nice day with mom, except for that one painful 5 minutes

bucking bronco rider
Originally uploaded by Liz.

I've been alternately slothful and busy today, depending on the heat. Thinking and writing. Moomin is getting much better. My mom is being helpful but also wants attention and to know that she is being helpful. And I appreciate all of it and so we're hanging out talking a lot.

Caught her on the bouncy horse so she cussed me out, told me not to dare take a picture, and then pulled down her shirt to reveal a bra strap & posed as a bronc rider, hamming it up. The bra strap just about killed me... I had showed her my underwear earlier in the day - underwear that says "OBEY ME" on the butt.

Comic books with Moomin... power rangers... batman sword was a big, big hit... crazy 8s... etc. Food, food, and more food, all in tiny mouse-sized portions and followed by diarrhea & howling more often than not but at least he's eating.

We messed about with the awning... I acknowledged that it's crazy-making for her to watch me approach a problem my way, with uncertainty and room for mistakes and then evolving a solution to fit. She wanted to measure and plan in ways that would not have allowed change-at-the-last-minute. Also, I felt that precision wouldn't make a big difference... it wasn't cabinetmaking. She rolled with it and let me boss things but I also made an effort to not be a jerk and to listen to her.... she is super smart and one of the things I have always liked about her is that she sees through a situation to the most efficient way to do something, and has no patience with inefficiency... That's very cool. (Although: combine that with obsessive-compulsive precision and then picture me, the baroque improvisational big-picture slob, and think how we have tortured each other our whole lives!)

Man, I have to confess that I kept looking at her hands the other day when she was falling asleep on the couch and thinking desperately, "please don't get old... please quit smoking...." We had our million zillionth conversation where I beg her to quit smoking... this began when I was 7 and brought home this coloring book public health project and cried as I begged them both never to smoke again. "Healthy lungs: color pink. Smoker's lungs: color brown." There was a movie about people dying, and probably about Pollution and The Earth as well. She quits & starts again. I couldn't stand the thought of it these last few days as I read about Jo and her mom, who is dying of brain cancer. Kept picturing my mom all feeble and undignified & coughing.. the few times I've seen her in pain it was just horrible... Aaaagh, please let her quit smoking for real...

Only one awkward horrid moment when she remarked to Rook and his sister, who was in town for like 2 hours, that at work she could never tell apart the Asian people. Um thanks mom! In front of your hapa grandchild too... I need to ask her if she thinks if he was growing up in her neighborhood, if she thinks people would read him as "white" or not? Why did she think it was okay to say that at all, much less to Rook and Chy? For fuck's sake. For the extra billionth time we will have that conversation about race and racism. I know it occurred to her after it came out of her mouth that maybe there was something hideous about saying that to Rook & Ching-Erh, but she was not sure what made it bad... words fail me... Ching-Erh gracefully passed it off while still getting in the schooling... by saying that when you have a name like hers, it is the opposite, and people at HER work who are named things like "Jason" are utterly forgettable, boring, and she can't tell them apart at all. Can I just say that it's completely bizarre that we had several days of normal conversation with no weird racial remarks... and then suddenly she busted out with this in the middle of nowhere... I think b/c she was sweaty and in a dirty tshirt and had just had her 20 thousandth hot flash of the day, then C. walked in in her banker power suit, tall, skinny, and sophisticated... She does not know she was expressing hostility through a racist remark, but that's how I see it, that she felt threatened and unbalanced and so said something really obnoxious. (Significantly prefaced with the phrase "I probably shouldn't say this, but," and a sidelong glance at me, apparently functioning as her PC conscience, which shows that she knew on some level it was a fucked up thing to say.) I can't for a minute think that it was "on purpose"... Rook reacted with bitter unbelieving laughter, and me too, and I was groaning and going "Mom... MUST YOU.... OMFG.... " Which she talked right over. But frankly lost my cool or my ability to give a coherent explanation of why she Must Not. I guess tomorrow, because I'm relentless and b/c it really really bothers me. Also I have always believed what I've written before, that if you do activism with strangers, but don't confront people close to you because it would make YOU yourself uncomfortable and threaten your real life relationships, then you are full of shit. So, that is why I am a hard ass on my parents and don't let it slide. it annoys them, and I'm sorry for that and for the disruption, but, what the fuck ever.

Then we did the dishes for the 1001th time today and fed Moomin more tiny bites of things and put him to bed and sat to look over his schoolwork for the year, which I sorted through. It's nice to look at it all with someone who really cares about him and thinks every little thing is cute... and she was telling me awesome stories about me and my sister when we were little, and what she remembers from her own elementary school, and how my aunt (her sister) is teaching kids Moomin's age - special ed. I didn't know that! She used to teach "troubled teens" or something... but is now part-time in a different school.

Listened about riding... watched horse videos... etc. And talked wildly about feminism and literary criticism and my thesis. It was a good day...

Different than i thought i'd have b/c i had planned to work, work, work while she took care of Moomin... but, this was better, for us all to hang out ... way better.

Burning without end

It's got so I'm afraid to click over to Riverbend's blog anymore. I wonder every day if she's still okay and her family alive. I felt bad in 2003 when I was writing her "please please get out" emails, to be encouraging her to abandon her country... but I feel like writing them again.... as her friends get shot in the head.

Our country should get off its ass and get protesting and get our army out. It's not helping anything. The war continues... I am amazed and disgusted every day that I open the newspaper or go online and the war isn't the top news. Hello. It's a WAR. That we started and that we're still in. And we don't even bother to report on it. How fucked up can this country be? How can I have gone on with my life as usual for the last few years while all this happens?

expedition to the strange and fugly

An afternoon spent in the basement of the Stafnord technical bookstore reading about nerd management techniques. I don't think any of it was directly relevant - to find the book I wanted I have to trek up to SF Public Library, which I meant to do last week. Entertaining, though, and it fired me up. Then (as per mom instructions) off to the scary mall.

People, be warned. Malls are especially fugly right now with a blight of bastard offspring of the capri and gaucho pant and something else I can't identify. Board shorts? But uglier. There is a fashion for nerd pants that just look like you've outgrown them... knickers?

If only men would wear attractive tight pants ... like baseball players...

Anyway, my requirement for pants was:

- must have pockets
- must be as much like jeans as possible without actually being jeans
- must not drip with beads, spangles, or flimsy embroidery
- no pleats (as per instructions from Minnie: pleats are the devil's business)
- must not cost 150 bucks
- not falling off my ass
- not flared out to next Wednesday

Macys petites: linen pastel capri with drawstrings and spangles OR black thick suit pants, all still too long. meant to be worn with heels perhaps?

Macys jr: why did I bother to look? nasty beyond compare with the wraparound v-neck tops with gathers. what genius invented them?

Bloomingdales: did not bother to go in
Banana Republic: horrible name, but I went in with the hope of cottony non-jeans without the extreme flare. no such luck. everything in there was nasty. pants all capri or huge flare, and too long.

Talbots, bane of my existence: vaguely possible old-lady pants, at least not falling off ass or bellbottom, but still too long. How? in petite dept? I'm 5'2. Horrid sweatery tops. Ugly bright colors... one okay no-sleeve top with palm trees on it, but was $68... no way. suit jackets with shoulder padding?!!!

Various other stores I can't remember: Beyond awful

Ann taylor petites: not exactly ugly but somehow wrong

Left mall in disgust... on the way out went into Express which had possibilities. Here are the vaguely whorish "professional" clothes. Styles all named things like "The Editor pant" and "The publicist" but according to photos of heavily boobular slick-ringlety-permed models leaning on barstools sticking their asses out, shoudl have been named "The Hussy" and "Pole Dancer". Low cut ... kind of flared... but not damned ugly and not too fussed up. Some chick who wasn't overly suspicious or pitying adopted me for makeover time and she kind of apologized for how she is "usually more punk in real life." So, is it for an interview? she asked... with hideous knowingness... As she pressed me to "describe my style" while presenting me with frilly low cut tops I finally squeaked, "I think my 'style' might be BUTCHER THAN THAT" and so I ended up with what she said was "tailored".

bwahahah! So I bought some pants and a sort of red shirt with no sleeves that wasn't too frilly or crapped up, and a jacket. There. Oh, wait, i have no shoes that aren't scuffy.

It's good that the pants fit. Their pockets are kind of fake. Like, back pockets, which reassured me, but then I went to feel in them and they were 1 inch deep. What would one put in them? Why have a pocket, then? Like, a pocket for one safety pin and a quarter?

I'm mall-traumatized. Was this really necessary? damn!

Christ, i should have gone to mervyn's and bought some new black jeans...

getting it

Oh! I "got" Years of Rice and Salt right at the end. About halfway through I thought, "Hmm, here is a person who has deeply read his Cao Xuequin. Doh!" And that made the story way more interesting to me. I had been seeing that I could respect the details to be right - as much as I can judge them so as a person who has read Ibn Batuta and the Mahabharata and plenty of chinese classics & poetry & whatever other Hindu and Buddhist texts I've come across. Also, I let go of my wish for a particular kind of story that would be like a little mystery to be solved or revealed.

But it was the end speechiness that made me realize it is all about "the attitude towards history" which is also about truth and individual stories, about culture and reading - what stance do we take towards history and the structure of culture, if we don't "just accept it" - The same thing that fascinates me about "life-eating" stories like Dune, The Hallowed Hunt, Book of the New Sun -- where life-eating, or the consumption of stories, or the extent to which you buy into history, is either a path to godhood or it means you're evil or sort of both. If we kick out the great man theory of history and the golden bookshelf and yet also don't want the Chinese Cultural Revolution then things get complicated. If we attribute full humanity and thinkiness and potential-to-create-culture and valid stories to everyone then we have to accept a little potential for boring processiness as well. This is also what I've noticed is good and bad about identity politics and the literary movement towards "spoken word memoir". And of course reincarnation is a good way to talk about self-criticism.

I enjoyed the snarky exoticising of the vanished primitive savagery of the Europeans - especially the bits about their music.

But the speechy bits at the end of the book were the beautiful key to having a moment of epiphany - of decoding many lives - which is why I read anyway. The story structure became okay for me at the end. & then the very end was very sweet.

Still feeling critical of the not-Paris Islamic lesbian scientists... a bit... and of the general flatness of character and sameness of voice that I always notice.

whew

I'm so, so, so, amazingly grateful that my mom is here. She gets everything. Well, sort of everything. Everything mom-ish, and my thoughts about working and jobs and career... Man, she would have a really interesting blog.

come on over?

Anyone want to come over tonight for a little while? M. is intermittently okay and in misery. Mom is going out to dinner and Rook is out at the game conference. So I would love any sort of helpful company! I had a solid night of sleep and a 15-minute nap... but am still pretty exhausted and spaced out.

just a tiny bit funny

Moomin sitting up, eating rice, still having a lot of pain from cramps & etc. It's much more manageable when we give him the vicodin. Watching videos, reading books, having a fun math lesson with his tiny green calculator, some pennies, and a notebook. My mom and I drank 2 enormous pots of coffee and sorted out his toys.

We ate olive toast and discussed extended family politics. What if my uncle moved here? I would be willing to help him have a life and set up his social services, etc. He could live near me, walkable to downtown and the train line. I think it could be his best option. And despite having fairly minor contact with him, I've always liked him. Poets and mellow schizophrenics get along well.

It is funny to see her forum posts and emails about barebacking. Emails from people named "pony-lover42" or "hoofgrrrl" *ahem* Context is everything.

The Years of Inventing Everything

I'm reading "The Years of Rice and Salt" and waiting desperately for it to all be explained by Bug Eyed Monsters, aliens, science... then it would become an unholy combination of The Mists of Avalon and Riverworld... So far I'm engaged but am a bit "wtf" and as I said, hoping against hope that the gods are bug-eyed aliens or energy-beings.

The "inventing everything" chapter cracked me up as it reminded me of the parody I never wrote of Ayla in the Valley of the Horses thinking of nuclear fission and calculus & etc. Really should write that chapter.