of rats and quarters

I read an article today about poverty levels and how major factors of
homelessness are low wages, high rent, and healthcare costs.

Well, duh, especially on the first two. Healthcare costs, well, I
tend not to worry about those because I've been generally healthy and
can't really comprehend /needing/ it. I do use my dental insurance
but my health insurance I do indeed take for granted when perhaps I
shouldn't. Still, I know the major root of the problem is not with
health costs but rather, with making enough money to pay for a place
to live. That is the root of homelessness in lots of cases.

Thinking along those lines, I recall my childhood and how close I'd
come to homelessness so many times. Welfare supported us most of my
life, but barely. I know we had it rough and I know things were
tough even back then, even as I also know a certain attitude of
defeat both hindered and helped us. I can't say why exactly this
sense of defeat was so imminent in my mother's heart when she is such
a strong, stubborn person, but I remember vowin early on that when I
grew up, I'd be supporting myself, and I'd not be relying on anyone
for my well-being if I could help it. To this effect, I've watched
the world's systems, taken jobs I barely felt I deserved, and worked
hard to ensure I kept them, even on days I, too, wanted to walk out.
Mom never understood how I could be so "strong" and able to
"manipulate" the world to do my bidding for me. My strength is hers,
it's simply directed at a different goal. And I manipulate little of
the world. It simply responds to my attitude.

So this all got me thinking about affordable housing, and I'm sure
the idea's come up before, and I'm sure there are many reasons as to
why it doesn't occur - but why couldn't there be some get-together
where people raise money, materials, and services to build small
apartments on existing property? Like, someone who owns a sizable
enough piece of land could place a little building on it and charge
minimal rent. The place wouldn't have to be huge and it wouldn't
have to be really close to the existing house. I'm not looking to
infringe upon a homeowner's rights or privacy, just solve a housing
problem. Now, it's obvious that many poor folk don't have cars, so
it would be most helpful to have such places in the city on a
busline; that way, they can most certainly work. One of the biggest
oxymorons I recall from my childhood is that the "state" would expect
the impossible - you can live here, but there's no busline for five
miles so good luck on finding a job to help you stop depending on
us. Or, here's some help - go to school on our behalf! - but
remember to show up for your review at this time, and only this time
- forget about rescheduling just because you have a major exam that
day - or you're cut off and can't have any food for a month while we
reopen your case.

Bullsh**. This is exactly why I don't like the "system."

Anywho, placing people into little apartments as I picture this would
involve some time and money as well as the cooperation of willing
homeowners. I think there should be a little tax cut the first year
someone does this, to aid in the expense of dealing with unexpected
costs; it would be run through an agency of sorts that has contact
with homeless people - I think they'd know the folks very well there,
and know which people might be the best fit and have the most need.
It's not that I think some people are more worthy of help than
others, but I think some are better able to help themselves than
others if given a chance, and it's those people I'd want to help most
because there's a possibility that they could get up on their own
feet and out of the little apartments faster, making room for new
success stories. The others can continue to be helped by other
agencies until society can figure something else out. I don't think
the "need" to treat everyone equally should hinder efforts to help.
Start small, right?

Now, to get the houses built: Get some of these contractors to feel
good about themselves and have them donate some of their services and
time. Since more always needs to be done anyway, there's really no
time thing on this, just starting the project would start helping.
Have the able homeless people help out, too, if they're so inclined -
In fact, this could help to sort out the willing from the for-now-
lost-causes. They might even learn something in this manner.
There's a program in Vermont that resembles this, although I never
recall the name. It's a bit of a community thing; a bunch of people
who want houses built get together and build each others' houses.
Having so many people involved means things happen faster, and
everyone knows what it takes to build something and no one is left
out of the process.

As far as rent on the little apartments, they wouldn't have been that
costly to build because people are donating time and money under the
stipulation that the building was to be used for this particular
purpose. So, the homeowner could make a small income that they did
not have prior, and taxes could not be levied against the new
addition, only the income. The rent would be payment for
volunteering to have such a building on their property, and would be
just enough to be worth the effort but not so much that someone
making $6 per hour couldn't afford the place AND childcare if necessary.

I don't have or know all the answers, but I think this could work if
it had the proper coordinator to get 'r done. Wish I were that
person but I'm probably not. If the program ever starts up, though,
I wanna be a part of it somehow. Maybe I can keep records on a
computer or something. ::shrug::

Another article I read discussed memory and how the brain works, or
rather, how they don't KNOW how the brain works. It was mentioned
that humans are quite unique in their processing power and that we're
barking up the wrong tree when studying mice and monkeys. I thought
of Gracie, my rat, who died earlier this year. She was very smart,
able to problem-solve like a human might, no matter what science
might say down the road. And she "talked" to me in her own way, she
understood me, and she felt something - not sure what - when her
sister was sick, and when she passed away. I watched her tend her
sick sister, washing her, soothing her, and then watched her lay
there after Mercy died, looking both listless and curious. That's
when our friendship truly began, because it was just her and I felt
bad she was all alone. What a blessing it was to have made this
decision to pay more attention to her! I enjoyed more mornings that
I can count, watching her devise ways to hoard my breakfast in her
cage. When she died it was earth-shattering. Heck, it still is,
that she's not here. We interacted far more than the cats and I ever
do and I'll forever regret that I hadn't taken notice of just how
wonderful she was her whole life.

She was smarter than some humans I know.

So will science ever figure out how to solve the problems of the
world? Will it figure out how the brain works? Maybe. Until then,
we write about it.

well, I done it now.

I broke down today and got a sewing machine. It wasn't impulse
buying, so that's good. I've been considering the idea for a long
time. See, I love purple and green, and plain fabrics. Yet I seldom
see plain purple or plain green dresses, tops, etc. And, when I do,
such a garment has been intended as a hot-air balloon or for someone
so tiny they must bathe in one of those plastic covers off a CDR
spindle.

Further, I like and look good in square necks. The last time these
were en vogue was probably in the mid-90's when those bodysuits were
fashionable. I remember those. I had one just as they were going
out of style.

Well, since I like "plain" so much, I thought, hey, perfect starting
point for me to learn how to use a sewing machine, right? After all,
if I'm going to wear something that hangs off my ankles, I might as
well make it myself. So I devised an idea for my first project: A
tunic-like top. The idea is that I take a piece of fabric wide
enough to fit me tshirt-ish, fold it in half lengthwise, cut a hole
in the fold for the neck, enlarge it on the "front" so it doesn't
choketh me (that part I picked up on the 'net when I was looking at
ideas afterward)... then cut the outline of what the armholes will
look like, fit the sides the best I can in proportion to that, and
stitch up the sides. Then, stitch the rest so it doesn't ravel and
look like that girl in the video for "Close To The Edit."

In essence, I envisioned a sack-like thing with a hole in the bottom
to stick my head through, only nicer, and of some purple cotton
material.

So today I went to Sears and bought myself a Singer. Not the kind
that serenades you with lullabies or ballads, but the kind that
drives a slender piece of steel through your finger if you're not
careful. The dude at Sears had as much knowledge of sewing as I did
- both of us last sewed during Home Ec in Junior High. But I've a
good memory, am practical and logically-inclined, and figure I can
figure this out myself. Everyone seems to think that I must be smart
if I can teach myself computers, so obviously I can sew, right? Uh,
yeah...

Then I went to Jo-Anne's and asked questions. The lady there wasn't
exactly the most helpful of peoples, but she seemed knowledgeable.
"Broadcloth? Use cotton stuff over there -- " [vague gesture] "and
make sure you stay away from anything stretchy." "Panne velvet is
out for now, right?" "Yeah, no, don't do that for your first
project." It was obvious I was overstaying my welcome so I ventured
off to find "cotton sans stretchy, no velvet" material. I ended up
picking out some lilac material and then some darker purple stuff
that *did* have a touch of spandex, but wasn't really that stretchy.
I chanced it anyway. Then I had it measured and priced, picked out
some matching thread, and headed to the cashier.

Upon checkout, I asked if they gave sewing lessons, because I'd
forgotten to ask the sewing peoples. They said yes, of course. So I
said I'd check into it if I had troubles. The cashier laughed and
wished me luck.

I got home and threw the new fabric in the washer because I'd read
it's good to do this before you sew it. (I did take note of care
instructions, too!) Then I went upstairs, firmly pushed the "little"
kitty out of my room to avoid attaching his tail to his whiskers, and
opened my new toy.

After ten minutes of analyzing the device and the contents of its
little accessory drawer, I'd picked out three objects I was familiar
with: bobbins, needles, and the foot thingie. So I picked up the
manual. It then took me about 40 minutes to set up the machine and
get thread in/onto it because I not only read the basic portion of
the manual, but two-thirds of it happened to be in a language other
than English. Consequently it took twice as long to read because I'd
start reading the Spanish version after the English, and then realize
it said the same thing; the French, at least, I couldn't read much of
at all, and would skip over at first glance. I should have learned
Russian, at least then I wouldn't be sidetracked with multilingual
manuals because I've never seen a manual done in Russian.

Finally, I had the thread on the bobbin, the bobbin in the thingie,
more thread on the needle, and - to my knowledge anyway - the machine
was ready to sew. I then cut up an old sock to practice on. My lead
foot bunched up the fabric and it got jammed in the toothy thing; I
also forgot to reverse the stitches after five to anchor the
stitching. Otherwise, not too bad. I went downstairs and threw the
fabric in the dryer. Then I analyzed a pair of pants to see how
they're hemmed. I came back into my den, firmly pushed "little"
kitty out again, and folded the sock material over to see if I could
hem it. That went well.

So my next step is to try stitching real material, but I've not
gathered enough courage to do it yet, and I'm out of play time. The
Festival is at 5 something and I want to be there for the parade.
Hmph. Later a friend is due to arrive for the weekend, so I'm afraid
my sewing time is over for a bit. Still, my first lesson has been
done. The sock-stitch. LOL

~nv

Oh, to see a drive!

Today I went nuts and bought some gadgets. Actually, I've screwed up
completely this week and bought way too much stuff.

First there was the tea binge. Then there was another tea binge.
Then there was a mini tea binge where I just *had* to go to a half a
dozen stores looking for a tea strainer. Yeah, I know, I don't NEED
one, but I just found out about them and wanted one. Well, despite
the imminent beauty of this area, it's all practicality. No store
within 10 miles of here seems to have a tea strainer, special pots,
infusers, etc - I finally did see a tea ball or two, but eh, I have
those...

However... I happened upon Staples in my travels, and had had this
conversation with someone at work about copying stuff off a laptop
drive when Windows won't boot, and... well... Yeah. So, $200 later,
I have a 160GB Maxtor One-Touch III Drive, a teensy 2GB flash drive
(it's hardly bigger than my thumbnail), a nice little retractable
cable kit, some more pens, and another set of batteries. In all
honesty, I think I did pretty well in there for the pricetag, but...
$200 is still $200, right?

Anywho, I had to format the hard drive as ms-dos so Mac, Windows, AND
Linux could all read it. Funny, Mac reads everything it seems. Not
a bad thing since it's my primary computer these days. The drive is
wicked. It weighs about as much as my old Visor Edge with its case
shed. One "Y" cable connects it to the computer, and so far I've
only needed one of the USB connectors because it's getting plenty of
power from both Shady and Raven. (It supplies the Y cable - and thus
two USB connectors - in case a computer can't supply enough power to
the drive.) NO power cable. No switch. It basically acts as if it
were a flash drive. Only this flash drive has 160GB of free space on
it, plenty for copying files off a little laptop if necessary.

In conjunction with Knoppix, of course. Hehheh.

The little 2GB is a backup because it's teensy, was half price ($20;
I tell ya, technology prices are dropping insanely), and I figure
it'll stay put in my little tech kit because it's so little and is
encase in some tacky rubber folder thing. My other 2GB drive slides
out of its pocket and I often worry I'll lose it because I want it so
accessible.

So, then I ended up at Bed Bath & Beyond and found a nice shelf to
put on the counter to hold more teastuffs and [hopefully] keep things
neat there. Rearranged the pantry a bit, got a mortar and pestle
(always wanted one; handy for grinding herbs), a few jars and
suchness, and voila, kitchen and pantry look nice again.

Off to a concert soon, so I must end here.

~nv

long trail festival

Long trail festival is coming up quick!! It's next weekend, 17, 18,
19, and 20!!

I just updated the <a href="http://

www.longtrailfestival.com">website</a> and it took me about two hours
- most of which was spent on a table. You know, information laid out
in a chart of sorts. Well, after struggling with copying and pasting
and linking and whathaveyou, I decided to throw it in Excel. There I
discovered that the gal who sent me the Word document hadn't done it
right in the first place, and it was quite obvious to me in Excel.
(I love Excel. It's one of two Office products I truly love - the
other is Outlook. If only the Mac versions were more like their pc
counterparts. But I digress.)

So, I modified the Excel document to be correct, then copied and
pasted successfully - only to discover new problems!! One of these
is that if you leave a cell blank, it confuses RapidWeaver. I fixed
that by putting a space in each cell, something Excel never cared for
but for current purposes, whatever.

Then I noticed that my formatting was skewered. I had everything
aligned so the cell contents began at the TOP of each cell, and now
here's RW throwing everything into the default "center" alignment.
What the... So I highlighted the table in RW and right-clicked.

That's when I saw it: "Table." Apparently there's a feature in Rapid
Weaver that allows for tables. I got all excited, you know, thinking
wow, I can create tables without 3rd party software like excel and do
it properly the first time!! But no. I looked EVERYWHERE for this
feature in the menus. I consulted the official documentation. I
searched the forums. Nothing. Doesn't exist, yet, I saw it.
Figures! I'm glad I experiment, otherwise I'd be sitting here hand-
coding the whole thing! Instead, I just modified my *other* site to
use the same technique, since it's so much cleaner and easier.

Egads, I'm getting myself into the wrong business... LOL

~chip

Sandy

Sandy has passed away today after a few days of heavy sleep.

She'd been slowing down the past few months, but Wednesday I noticed
that her eyes were stuck shut and she seemed wobbly on her legs. I
got her eyes unstuck but they restuck overnight and I couldn't free
the lids again. No matter to Sandy; she preferred to sleep mostly,
and stopped drinking yesterday. No pain seemed imminent so I watched
the slow rise and fall of her fur as she breathed sporadically,
occasionally shifting her weight and hiding in one dark corner of the
cage.

This afternoon I found that the fur had stopped moving, and she'd
plastered her face against the glass as if for support.

It seems she died peacefully enough, and for that, I'm thankful. But
just as I miss Gracie's obstinate little streak of independence, so,
too, will I miss Sandy's. I can so easily picture her when she was
still so active, digging under the door, pulling up carpet-fibers,
and hanging on impetuously as I tried to pull her fat, wriggling
little body away to scold her.

She has at last found her way under a door. May she find new places
to explore and lots of carpets to shred.

~nv

Losing your pants - and your job

Dale told me about this story a week or two ago.  Both of us thought the judge guy was a bit off his rocker in his demands, and were glad when his case got thrown out of court.

Basically, this judge was utilizing a family-run dry cleaner's.  He went to have some suit pants altered and the family somehow misplaced them.  So, he sued them for over $50 million.  The amount was supposedly justifiable because now he had to go x number of miles up the road to another dry cleaner's, so in addition to the suit costs, he had to pay for mileage because he no longer trusted the closest dry cleaner's.

Yeah, that's what I said:  "WTF?!"

Now, the family-run business tried to help and to make up for the loss, and in fact later on found the pants, but still the judge would not drop it.  So they went on to court with it.

His case was thrown out of court.  Well, currently, he's being looked at for potential de-judgement, meaning, he might lose his job because he made a bad judgement about whether he should sue like that or not.  It was considered frivolous.

I pity him the job loss, but am cheering for the system that threw out the case.  The job part of the story is here:

http://blog.washingtonpost.com/rawfisher/2007/08/first_pants_man_loses_case_nex.html

Moral to the story is this.  Sue the pants off someone for losing your pants, and you might lose more than your pants.  Go, judicial system.

foooooooood

I'm noticing that I'm eating healthier and tastier foods lately.
Perhaps it's because we were on the road eating fast food and snacks
for three weeks. Anywho, for lunches at work, I've been having
chicken with rice and veggies, one of my favourite me-made dishes.
For dinner tonight, Dale and I had some of his mom's green bean and
egg gravy (yes, you heard right - it's very good, too) on mashed
potatoes with a buttered piece of sourdough bread... and lemon pepper
fish.

Yum.

I finished off a little baggie of blueberries and raspberries for
dessert after downing a cup of chocolate milk.

Really yum.

~nv

back to work, back to life

This will be my fourth day of work since coming back.  Ten hour days, mind you.  I came back during one of THOSE weeks, which is preferable to coming back when I have to work at 6am Sunday after waking up at 9am every day for weeks.

Got a headset for my phone at work.  Wow.  I can actually hear callers!  The muffs block out all the superfluous, distracting noise and I can completely ignore my coworkers until I'm done listening to the woes of the user.  It's awesome.  I've found that they even help block out some noise when I'm not on the phone, so I'm trying to get into the habit of leaving them on with the mic up.  I put the mic up so I can feel safe training my coworkers that if it's up, I'm not on the phone and they can approach me without hesitation.  I figure that way, they'll learn to pause themselves if they see it's down.  Not that it'll help with people who call to me over the monitors, but I think it will help some.  I don't want people thinking I leave these on all the time just to make them think I'm on the phone so they'll leave me alone.  It's just so nice to be able to concentrate some!!

Lost my work cell phone, though.  Trying to figure out what happened to it.  I'm 95% certain I left it at work prior to vacation.  I've stopped turning things upside down looking for it.  After the third search, I figure I'm not insane enough to hide it on myself THAT well, and there must have been some third party intereference.  

I hope to attend a vb.net class through work... kept bugging my boss about it and he'd told me I could go once I finished this database to his satisfaction.  I did shortly before I left and wrote him an email, in a sort of BASIC code.  Something like, "DB = COMPLETE.  IF DB = COMPLETE, GOTO VB.NET."  He responded sorta like this and copied our "trainer" on it:  "IF DB = COMPLETE THEN GOTO TRAINER."  The trainer then wrote back to us and said something along the lines of "IF TRAINER HAS INFO THEN GOTO CLASS."  So I found all the class info again and resent it to both of them two days ago.  It's pretty scary when people respond to me in my own language, especially my own boss and someone as no-nonsense as the trainer person.  I almost fell out of my chair laughing when I read their responses.

http://www.ltfvt.com is coming along nicely.  I added a few pages and they look niiiiiiice (IMHO anyway).  LTF folks seem to like them, too.  RapidWeaver ROCKS.  Best website software I ever used.  I thought it would make me code-stupid but I'm actually learning more code and hanging onto a lot of what I already knew.  Go figure.  I get lazier and end up learning more...

Just got the two books I ordered from lulu.com.  They look like slighter-larger-than-usual paperbacks (height mainly).  Not the typical paperbacks I'd expected, but not far from expectations, either.  Nice, though Scott (authour friend who wrote them) didn't do his cover well on the first one and it's grainy.  Obviously blown up to fit the cover (very bad from a computer image perspective).  He fixed it for the second one.  I'll remember not to make his mistake(s) if/when I do one.  Inside, they're much like standard books.  Can't wait to read them, I like his writing.  In case I've not mentioned him yet, his name is Scott Harper.  His site is http://www.lulu.com/sjhlhjh should any of my readers be interested.  The two books I just got are Winter's Rite and Well Wishes.  He also just released Gauntlet.

Well, off to finish updating ltfvt, and then off to work...

~nv

search in mail

Okay, this makes the third time in a ROW that the search function in
Mail actually worked without me having to repair permissions on the
drive. I won't ever pretend to understand Shady 100% - he is a
computer after all - but I have hope that perhaps he's fixed whatever
glitch was causing his obstinance.

In other news, I just updated psychomuse.com, and mount9.com's little
quirk from last night is now fixed - and the site is also a bit
updated with new photos!! :)

~nv

talent... or lack thereof

Just did this last night... I'm not exactly that great at music, but I have been pushing the issue a long time, so I'm proud of this one even if it's best classified as rap... there are a few flavours of rap so I'll just tell myself it's amongst the better flavours... LOL  (Hm.  Funny thing is... you ever hear that some people hate what describes them?  I've always hated rap, yet it's the only "music" I've actually got an inkling of ability for, and I only recently acknowledged that I like SOME rap - chiefly Eminem.  Maybe accepting that has allowed me to pursue it myself.  Ugh... LOL)

http://www.nvnohi.com/psych/music/songs/intheusa.html

Guess I am somewhat multi-talented... I think "versatile" is more the word.  I can't say I'm awesome at any one thing (other than spotting spelling errors a mile away and intuiting code pretty easily once immersed)... but I do have a myriad of abilities when I find some sort of interest to pour them into.

Like last night... I SUCK at music, yet on our way home, I wrote a jumbled outpouring of words in a notebook, and thought I might put them to song somehow - eventually.  Then I'm sitting here listening to music and I get... inspired!!  I whipped open GarageBand and intuitively found a beat that happened to be perfect even though I didn't know that fully at the time.  For a few minutes I stumbled over the rhythm of the words, trying to force them into the beat; then I simply tore them apart and reworded them into a rapping type of prose.

A few imperfections and happenstances lent me ideas and I left some in there as part of the song, tweaking as necessary to make it flow together passingly.  In under four hours, the whole thing had been recorded and converted to mp3.

I could have spent five years on that and it wouldn't have been as good as the inspired version of it was.  I don't even know why the Muses sent inspiration my way at that moment in time.  I never do.  But when inspiration strikes, boy, does it strike, and effortlessly, too.

Seems to me that it built up, too... prior to writing the poem on our way home, I'd been drawing in that notebook, just lined paper and blue liquid sketching across the pages.  The two drawings I did were actually pretty good considering I had no eraser, didn't care, wasn't trying very hard and yet still had some idea of what I wanted to illustrate.  It was one of those "decisions" that I feel click into place and don't question.  They are the most interesting pieces of my life.

And today, I didn't eat much at all, forcing down a bowl of Cream of Wheat just for sustenance as I worked on my websites, backups, and pictures, catching up on my computer requirements.  Then I realized I was shaking from the abuse so I begrudgingly went downstairs to find food.  I got sidetracked by organizing and cleaning out the pantry, and in the process, saw the rice sitting there on the shelf.  That reminded me that I'd wanted rice and veggies and chicken just last night but we'd had pizza instead, and I'd raised no objections because I didn't feel like cooking.  The cooking bug hit me.  So I made a huge pot of rice, a smaller one of lentils, and whipped out a frying pan for the veggies and chicken strips.

WOW is this stuff good!!  It's a cross between Chinese fried rice, spicy Indian lentils, and Mexican omelettes without the eggs.  And, as usual, I wasn't trying that hard.  I just grabbed whatever I felt like throwing in.  I don't think I've ever tired of this particular dish.  Probably because I can't make it the exact same way twice.  I've always got some slight variation up my sleeve and it keeps me (and my tastebuds) interested.  I just love the flavours of the vittles within, and the rice takes on these flavours in such wondrous ways.  Hard to do it without the meat, though.  Doesn't take much of it but it seems to be as necessary as the rice and the spices.

If all of life was this easy, we'd all be nervous some sort of doom was approaching!

~whit

storage solution

I think I've just found the answer to my storage problem, without
having to purchase any new hard drives right away.

Known:
* I've got a 220GB drive on Shady, and am currently down to 12GB
available. (AIEEEEE!! That BYTES!!)
* There's a fairly empty drive 200GB+ drive on Raven.
* Raven isn't used much anymore.
* Raven DOES have a firewire port.
* I just discovered firewire networking...

Hehheh... yep, Dale saw me copying off the external hard drive and I
told him I'd finished with it, but still had more on the laptop
because I'd not backed up the past week or so yet. He says, "Why not
just connect the laptop to Shady via Firewire?" Why? WHY?? Because
-- I -- didn't think of that... So I just taught myself how to do
it. It's SO easy on the macs, I'm hoping it'll be somewhat similar
to do in Windows XP... and it's definitely faster than ethernet,
wireless, and even transferring from disk to disk to disk. YAY!!

I LOVE COMPUTERS!!!!!!!!!! WHOOOOOOOOO
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And macs are THE awesomest... the fact they can talk to pc's is even
cooler!! Best of both worlds, I say...

~nv

picture counts

Dale has informed me of his picture count for the trip, which is
fairly accurate since he hasn't deleted anything yet like I had.
I've ascertained a pretty good guess as to my count, too, though -
based on the camera's numbering system and a little bit of logical
deduction and simple arithmetic. It should be pretty accurate.

Without further ado, our totals (it will be interesting to see
exactly how many shots we end up KEEPING):
Dale - 9,270 photos
Whit - 9,550 photos

I did take around 300 photos at the Arches and vicinity (during
Dale's camera woes), so it appears that Dale and I take the same
number of pictures on average. Freaky, huh?

~nv

Return from trip

Hallelujah, we're back!!

Found meade at the Mall of America, too, so Dale and I sampled it last night.  It's quite good, I'll be buying more from a site I found it at.  Now that I know the brand I like, it was easy to find an online distributor here in the US.  It's imported from Ireland, surprise surprise... gotta love authentic stuff.  http://millstonebuyriteliquors.com/product.aspx?Item=1441

Trip went well, and we had WAY too perfect weather - about 15 minutes of actual rain in three weeks, and 14 minutes of it was at Mount Rushmore in South Dakota.  Gah!  I LOVE rain.  Guess what it did a couple hours after we arrived home?  Yes, it rained.  FINALLY some REAL RAIN!!  I went out and danced in it briefly before shivering from cold and coming to my [adult?] senses.  Apparently we missed some heat wave by a couple days, too... that's okay with me though.  I can certainly do without a heat wave, especially a humid one.  Just rain on me.

Dale got sick the day after we sought the top of Pike's Peak, but we think it was viral now.  He had two IV bags of fluid pumped into him at the ER and felt better immediately although he slept a lot over the following day or two.  Some stomach thing.  We think it was viral because just a few days ago I had a few of his symptoms (thankfully lacking the stomach portion).  I got over it in a couple days, on my own, thankfully.

For those of you not keeping up with the blogs/pictures at www.mount9.com, we saw the Grand Canyon (wow), the Phoenix area (including Sedona), lots of cactus, deserts, prairies, and wildlife, LOTS of buffalo (mostly in Wyoming), LOTS of antelope (that song weren't kiddin'), no deer (song lied about that), prairie dogs, Devil's Tower (yep we had a third encounter), Seven Falls, Yellowstone, Mall of America, some stadium Dale could tell you about, Mt Rushmore, the marker for the 90 degree Meridian, a Green Giant figure 55 feet high, White Castle fast food restaurants (Stan and Rick will be cringing at me now), and oh yeah, most recently - Niagara Falls.  I think Grand Canyon and Niagara are the more breathtaking treasures we have in this world, but I was also quite taken by an acorn weevil on the sandy beach of Lake Erie the other day, so...

We didn't go into Canada as planned because we were both too chicken given the gazillion things we had in the SUV by that time (I'm sure customs is quite efficient really), but eventually we will go back to Niagara on the Canadian side.  We stayed in a U.S. hotel this time around instead and enjoyed a jacuzzi for the second time in our hotel history.  (Weird, those are, but enjoyable now and again.)  Our worst hotel in the way of amenities was $35 (with tax) outside of Toledo, OH.  It had painted white bricks as walls, a sink that backed up when run for ~1 minute, and some... interesting wires... anywho, the worst in the way of service had to have been a $50ish one in or near Colorado; they had a 10am checkout time which was not posted anywhere nor announced, the neighbours were very noisy all night, and housekeeping very rudely asked 10 minutes before 10 when we were leaving 'cause they wanted to clean up after us.  (And that was the morning after Dale came down with the bug.  He did NOT feel that good being rushed.)  Our best hotel was the one last night in Niagara Falls, NY (we could fit at least eight of the crappy hotel rooms into that one room!), and runners up were the Sands in Boulder City, Nevada; ABC in Gunnison, CO; and one from last week that also featured a larger jacuzzi.  Forget where that was, it'll be in the blog I reckon.

Total miles driven were around 6,000.  Haven't totalled what we spent on gas but it was around 20-26 miles per gallon and prices seemed to hover around $3/gallon, give or take 20 cents depending on whether we were just off the highway or in the middle of a town.  We ate lots of fast food, hit a couple nicer places, and snacked on nonperishables from the grocery store.  I might be wrong, but I think we were well under my guesstimate for costs.  Of course we enjoyed a few continental breakfasts, too, courtesy of the various hotels that offered them.

I wrote a sort of a poem on our way to Albany, I want to sculpt it a bit as it's probably the roughest poem I ever wrote - some song inspired it, and the words just spilled out.  Heck, maybe I'll just leave it be for now and fix it later when I decide to futz with a melody for it in my head.  By rough I mean ROUGH... will post it here soonish.

Currently trying to get pictures copied from White Castle to Shady - yes, Dale named the laptop finally during our last hotel stay.  White Castle is sooooooo appropriate, too.

The worst thing that happened in the last three weeks is the death of Guinevere.  She passed away sometime at the bottom of the lizard tank, not sure why.  She had a mouth ailment that I could never seem to clear up (not mouth rot according to the dr) so maybe it was calcium deficiency after all despite my attempts to fix the problem.  Dunno if there was more I could/should have done but I'm not going there, what's done is done and she lived to be two years old.  Anoles only live 2-3 years naturally anyway.  Which means Lancelot might be on his way out, too, although he seems perfectly healthy right now.  He's closer to 3.  Sigh.

Despite the loss, though, and having been immensely homesick for the past solid week, even dreaming about green mountains and rain and clouds and REAL GRASS instead of that weird prairie stuff they've got out in Ohio (or worse, fields of nothing but sand, scraggly bushes, and cactus plants/trees)... I do believe we've had a very positive experience, one that will last a lifetime.  The U.S. is full of interesting explorations, but the best part I think about our trip is that I've come to really, REALLY, appreciate New England for all its ups and downs.  From the steady monotony of desert and rocks in Arizona to the prarie-ladden horizons of the Midwest, I've found that I love nothing more than the steady pitter-patter of raindrops falling upon the mountains all around us late at night.  We were filled in wonder over being able to see lands as far as horizon, but I kinda like wondering what's over the next hump.  Keeps me on my toes.  Flat roads are good for driving fast but they become boring pretty quick; even the beauty of the rolling clouds spread across the landscape can't hold my interest longer than an hour.

Yes, New England is still my home, in heart, mind, and spirit.

~nv

MP3/Camera

http://www.crutchfield.com/S-Mn5PbGpvGYK/cgi-bin/ProdView.asp?g=300&I=023STLMP56

Yeah, back from the trip and already window shopping with virtual money I don't even know if I have yet.  The above is a link to an MP3 player that's piqued my interest.  If my readers have any sentiments about Blaupunkt/Crutchfield, I'd like to know some opinions while I research.  Dante will be paid off in two years or so.  If I doubled his payments I could even get that down to one.  Might just do that, and save a bit on the side for some, uh, upgrades.  It'll be SO nice to OWN that truck.  Next car I buy will be saved for and NOT finance for five years, but until then, Dante comes first.  Gotta pay Dale for my newest camera, though... his died during our trip so he bought a new one at a Best Buy out there somewheres, I think it was Boulder City, NV or thereabouts.  As he spoke to the clerk there,  I was looking over the S3 (I had/have the S2, which was acting fluky and scaring me).  The clerk saw my interest and listened to my concerns; I'd been thinking of going even higher but not right away, still, my camera was scaring me, but I was just not ready to leap yet, but then, it would be such a waste to get another S2 (or S3) if I /did/ make a leap in the next year.  

Erick - MAN that guy needs to get a raise, he should be employee of the year! - suggested that I buy the S3, refrain from opening it, and then return it in 14 days if my camera lived.  If it didn't, I'd have an insurance policy and could own the S3.  Yeah!!  A Best Buy employee telling a customer to do such a thing!!  Not that it's immoral or anything, but I wouldn't expect an employee to actually suggest that in this day and age.  They live to sell, not promote returns.  Usually.

The dude seemed to know his sh** so since Dale was done with him for the time being, I went off on a rave about the S2 but how there were still certain things I didn't like about it that should have been improved.  His eyes go off into space for a second and he's like, "Hey, wait a second... I think we might have some S5's... I swear I saw them earlier this afternoon - they just came in!"  So I'm like, "What?!  But the S3 just came out!!  And what about the S4?!"  "I know!!  That's what /I/ said when I saw them!!"  Off he goes, returns with an S5... opens the package, thanking Canon out loud for having the kind of boxes they have (so it doesn't look like it was opened if you replace contents)... finds some batteries somewheres and a card, and hands it to me to play with!!  I'm like, "You won't get in trouble for this?"  "Nah... check that out - bigger display, etcetcetc" I'm like, "WHOA!!  They listened to their customers and fixed some of the things I thought should be better!!"  "Yeah!!"  So he and Dale and I spent a good 10 minutes taking pictures in the store and getting all excited and then I said, "Hmm... can you sell THIS to me??  I won't be returning it though..."  So he checked into things (it wasn't on shelves yet) and came back smiling.

Some salesman.  He knows his sh**, is really into helping his customers, and listens, too.  I wish that Best Buy was here in Vermont.  I wanna check out which store number it was and call it up and ask for its manager, explain to him/her how this dude sold us on a brand new camera in under 15 minutes and knew his stuff.  I probably will.  Every time I pick up Obsidian (Sid for short) I think of Erick's knowledgeable and helpful self.  What a wonderful memory to attach to my newest "child."

In other news, we're HOME!!!!!!!  And I've got a friend IMing me... I gotta go... we had soooooo much fun out there, but I'm sooooooooooooooooo glad to be home.  More in a bit on a trip summary.  Otherwise, read http:\\www.mount9.com - that's the official trip site...

~nv

Dante

Wow, am I in a posting mood today!!

It's just that, I was sitting here looking at the original paperwork for Dante's "adoption" if you will, and I remembered the day he first arrived in my driveway. It was just days before I met Dale face-to-face.

At one minute before 1pm that afternoon, there was a knock at my door. I pushed aside the butterflies in my stomach and opened the door. The man looked around at the apartment, over my head, and then realized that I was down a bit more. He looked down at me and says cheerfully, "Anyone here expecting a Tacoma?" "That be me," I said, smiling at him. His face registered momentary surprise and then he smiled broadly. "You must be...?" "Yep," I answered, and we shook hands, making our brief introductions. He smiled again and stepped backward a bit, gesturing toward the parking lot. "Well, there it is." I looked out and saw a slightly dusty, black Tacoma sitting in the lot several doors down, the sunlight glinting off the hood and the top portion of the driver's side door. I nodded approvingly. Exactly what I asked for. "You wanna take it for a spin before we get down to business?" he asked. I stepped back inside and shook my head. "Nope. Do you have the paperwork?" His smile faded and was replaced by a disbelieving frown. "You... you don't want to take it for a spin?" "Nope. Paperwork?" My request finally registered. "Oh, okay, yes." Another guy, apparently the driver of their return car, yelled over. "Takin' it for a test spin yet?" The first guy looks over his shoulder at him. "No, she wants the paperwork." "What?!" I hear the car-driver exclaim. "Yeah, grab the paperwork, she wants to do that first." "Paperwork? Really?" "Uh, yeah." "Uh, oh, okay. Be right there." (Or something to that effect.)

It became apparent to me that most people who have a new vehicle delivered before seeing it typically want to drive it before signing anything, and my opposite desire had left the two men near speechlessness. However, I'd never driven a truck before, and I had received my license only a month and a half earlier. This was, obviously, about to be my /first/ vehicle as well, and it was brand-spankin' new. I was so nervous and lightheaded that I may have well been drunk - I was far from the point where I would trust myself to drive my /scooter/ safely, let along a quarter-tonne vehicle that would readily kill anyone in its path.

So the two men came inside with the paperwork and sat across from me at one of my long tables, which I had cleared of components and the like for exactly this purpose. "You, uh, into computers?" one of the men asked, eyeing the piles of stuff on the other tables. "You could say that," I said, smiling nervously. Typically I'd have gone on and on about my hobby-turned-trade, but I was in very unfamiliar territory and needed to keep myself on track, in stark concentration. He made no further comment on the matter and pulled the papers out of a folder, seriousness hitting him like a sudden shadow. These men were cordial, but knew their business.

We spent the next hour poring over the documents, and by the time we were done, my hand had decided that it had signed my name for the last time. The two men shook my hand, each in turn, and congratulated me on my fine purchase. Then they asked if I had any questions about the truck itself. At this point, I realized I'd better look over the truck. So I said, "Well, could you show me how the truck works?" They exchanged startled glances, but smiled and got up. "Of course."

The sun was angled differently now, but the truck was still shining patiently. "I hope you understand that the dust is from the trip down here; and the mileage is for the same reason," one man apologized, well in advance of my even questioning such mental notes. "Oh, of course," I replied, thinking that perfectly logical, and wondering at the apologetic look on his face, which remained a bit despite my assurance that I understood. I realized for the second time that afternoon that one of them must have driven the truck, so I asked who had had the privilege. To my surprise, it was the one I'd earlier assumed had driven the car. He beamed. "Nice ride," he told me excitedly. "Feels like driving a car." I'm sure some folks might have taken offense at that, but that's exactly the comment I was hoping for. My driving instructor had been nervous when I asked him if he thought a truck would be OK for my first vehicle. When I told him that I was looking at Tacomas, though, he had relaxed. "Oh, you'll be fine in one of those. It would be like driving a car, only bigger and higher up." I recalled the twinkle in his eyes and I felt myself relax a bit. That makes two people that feel this way, I thought. Good.

The guy looked the truck over with admiration. My heart skipped a beat as I followed his gaze, looking in at the soft gray interior, sniffing the "new car" smell for the first time. My first vehicle!! He showed me where the wipers were, and warned me that the shifter will only leave "park" if I had the brake depressed. I nodded, wondering why anyone would shift out of park without braking first anyway. Looking at the letters, I could see that it would go into reverse before drive, and thought that wouldn't be good for the gears, and besides, braking would mean you'd have more control should you accidentally switch gears tot he wrong one. Seeing my understanding, he added quietly, "You'd be surprised how many calls we get about broken shifters. Some people don't do the brake thing and force the shifter, breaking the shaft right off." I was horrified but he continued, saying, "They aren't meant to be forced like that, you know." I shook my head and continued my inspection, which had spread into the rear portion of the cab. The tumble seats!! W00t!!

Eventually I was left alone with my new "Toy" (Toy = Toyota, don'tch'know) and I practiced opening the doors, shutting them, and getting in and out of the truck. I cleaned the interior of the already-accumulated dust, polished the windshield, opened the tumblers, assembled and disassembled the jack, and familiarized myself with the instruments. I studied the manual, flipped through the glove compartment and looked for the other books, which I also perused for a good hour. I talked to the truck the whole time, promising to name him as soon as I figured out something suitable.

Finally I got up my nerve and placed the key in the ignition. I turned it, foot planted firmly on the brake, terrified he'd move before I was ready. The engine came to life, its sound reaching my ears for the first time. I knew the beeping sound was because I did not have my seatbelt on yet, so I fastened it and sat there, foot still on the brake. I slowly exhaled and released it. The truck moved forward very slightly, but it stayed put. I played with the instruments some more, testing blinkers, headlights, windshield wipers. I noted that the gas gauge was full and that there were two headlight indicators, one for normal and one for high beams, I assumed, since they changed depending on which position I selected. I could tell from the reflection in the window in front of the truck which position was which.

The moment had arrived. I planted my foot on the brake again and slowly shifted into reverse, noting how easily it moved, yet felt a very satisfying, small thud as it moved into place. No mistaking where it's at, I thought. You're either there, or you're not. Good. My foot began to release its hold and the truck moved backward. I hit the brake, hard. OMG, the thing moved! I craned around, making sure no one was behind me. Then I remembered the gazillion children that lived in the complex and put the truck back in park. Ensuring it was steadily planted, I got out and walked around the vehicle, looking for kids. There hadn't been any around all day, but I'd been absorbed in my new toy, so I wasn't certain if perhaps I'd missed one sneaking around or something.

I even checked UNDER the truck, just to be sure.

My first run was around the complex, where the speed limit was 5mph. I got braver after my second time around and made my way to the exit for a little run around the block. The truck DID feel like a car, but I could see so much more from up there!!

It wasn't hard to park it, either. I sat in the driveway upon my return, exhilarated. I turned the key backwards in the ignition and retracted it.

A gentle giant, I thought to myself. He's got some power to him beneath that quiet exterior. And for the next couple of days I was preoccupied with finding a name for him: Dante Damian.

~nv

Interest Rates

Wow, I'm quite happy with my newest rates... I knew rates made a huge difference but I had no idea until now, when I can really compare things.

Last year, my APR changed (for the better) by about 10%.

Basically, I put $3700 on principal for a little over 1.5 years' worth of payments.
In just 6 months on the new rate, I'd put in $3000 on the principal, paying the same amount I was paying before.

Yikes, huh?

Now, granted, that's $3700 less that I'm not paying interest on, but still... that's a HUGE difference. Remind me to save a lot more in the future, though, so I don't have to borrow so long... LOL

~nv

Sandy-itis

Hamsters can be quite cute, but egads, is one of mine lacking a wee bit o' common sense.

I'm cleaning her cage, so I let her run around my room, diligently picking up any and all wires (I still have yet to fix the last network catastrophe to my satisfaction). Sinclair, I knew, was in the hallway outside the door, but when I shut the door to keep kitty away from hammie, he was half-asleep. I knew, too, that Sandy would eventually make her way to the door and try to get under (she never can, so I seldom worry about that part).

What I neglected to realize was that Sinclair's claws have not been trimmed and are very sharp, and of course he's going to awaken from his falsified stupour and go after the tender fuzzy flesh of a dumb hamster.

In due time, Sandy found the door and started her routine. I heard a bit of a fuss and glanced over to see a little white cotton ball shoved under the door. Sandy was sniffing it disdainfully. "What the... uh... is that Sinkie's paw?" I wondered to myself. As if in answer, another cotton ball was shoved under the door about five inches away, barely missing Sandy as she jumped away in some semblance of concern for her own safety. Then the dodohead walks around the other paw, goes RIGHT to the door, and before I could get up to rescue her from the likely danger, the first paw flashes toward her and snags her three inches toward its previous location.

She didn't cry out, but she was quite alarmed and was struggling on the tips of the claws. I screamed sharply and got to her just in time to see her wrench herself free of the claws and sit there scratching at the side she'd been nabbed on. I sighed in relief, and then, to my horror, she ambled back over to the door - and the awaiting claws.

I grabbed her as the claws attempted another closing and tried to steady my beating heart. I scolded her and she turned away, an expression of longing on her face as she scrambled in my hand in the direction of the door.

What is so fascinating about getting out of this sizable room, I don't know, but she wants out in the worst way! I've since blocked the door completely so claws cannot reach her, but zheezh... one would think that having been clawed she'd give up on her endeavours to reach a new version of freedom.

Anywho, now that my heart is beating regularly, I'd best go find the little bugger... last time I saw her, she was ambling up the side of my computer carrier, and there are pockets on that thing that would love to suck in an unsuspecting hamster. *rolling eyes*

~nv

Coincidence, insight

One of those "coincidences" just occurred a short while ago.

I was on my way to the store to get some heavy cream, and found myself highly reflective. I neglected to think of bringing some headphones for the walk, and thought at the end of our street, nah, I'll just relish the solitude, sunshine, nature, and serenity offered by this little town. So I continued on, half-wishing I had the tunes and half-glad I was completely alone without them.

My thoughts ranged from the trip to work to my appreciation for nature, people I know, fresh insights about myself, and of course, Dale, and how lucky I am to have him in my life.

At the top of the hill, not much farther from the store, I began to hear a beat - music! Some guy was working in his yard and had a radio on. I matched my steps to it as I drew nearer and wondered what song it might be, happy that my reverie was enhanced by a hint of a welcome past time. It turned out to be the country version of "When You Say Nothing At All." I felt a tingle run up and down my spine and it settled within that wide spot in my torso which I equate with my "spiritual center" - the place that always feels warm and fuzzy whenever I've hit upon something spiritually meaningful. See, I'd impartially thrown that song onto my mp3 player shortly after Dale and I moved here, and I hadn't taken much notice of it until one day it came on as I was walking up to Beaver Pond by myself. It sent shivers down my spine, then, too, because it reminded me of Dale and I. (How trite, I know.)

Coincidence as perhaps it could be called, it's noteworthy to mention the numerous things that had to be in place for me to encounter this song as a spiritual moment struck me: Decision to make muffins, desire to have cream with them, decision to walk to store, leaving the headphones behind in favour of silent appreciation for this little town, and the exact moment that I decided to leave for this short journey, only to arrive at the top of a hill within a particular three-minute-something timeframe so that I heard a song that is so meaningful to me as the sun shown down so brightly. Sometimes it seems that everything about Dale is shrouded in perfect timing (consider how we met).

I won't delve into the spiritual awakenings that ensued as I bought my milk and cream and returned home, but I wanted to share some of the profundities so apparent in life.

"When You Say Nothing At All," sung by at least a handful of artists, notably Alison Krauss:

It’s amazing how you can speak right to my heart
Without saying a word you can light up the dark
Try as I may I could never explain
What I hear when you don’t say a thing

The smile on your face lets me know that you need me
There’s a truth in your eyes sayin’ you’ll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me if ever I fall
You say it best when you say nothing at all

All day long I can hear people talking out loud
But when you hold me near, you drown out the crowd
Old Mr. Webster could never define
What’s being said between your heart and mine

The smile on your face lets me know that you need me
There’s a truth in your eyes sayin’ you’ll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me if ever I fall
You say it best when you say nothing at all

The smile on your face lets me know that you need me
There’s a truth in your eyes sayin’ you’ll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you’ll catch me if ever I fall
You say it best when you say nothing at all

Freeeeeee

As of 6:19pm last night, I am officially FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! for a whole month. Quite liberating, in fact.

Saturday we're heading out on our trip. I've been thinking a lot about how I've gotten to where I am today, and how things often fall into my lap in a way. Not that I've never attempted to work towards obtaining the good things in my life, but I just never really feel like I'm working all that hard to get anywhere. Yeah, there are some work struggles, and inner struggles, but it's like the past was so much harder that struggles these days are scarcely that.

Stepping stones, I guess, stepping stones. I started out a scared, shy little person, left to her own devices after just a few years of life, and now here I am out in the workforce, married, on vacation, pursuing the rest of the country for a time. Friend of mine last night asked me why I occasionally feel sad, and I said I did not know. It's become an acceptable part of my life, one that I allow to pervade my being now and again; otherwise, it digs itself into a small place within me and festers until it is unbearable. Acknowledging it as a part of who I am and taking the time to nurture it seems the quickest way to feel the sunshine so warmly yet again. I will not deny, either, that the sadness is comfortable in its familiarity.

My friend made a fairly casual remark which I found greatly insightful. She said something about how childhood can stay with you. While I'm aware that one's earlier years can shape a person, I hadn't really thought of the healing that must go on forever from a traumatic childhood. It hit me that perhaps my sad moments truly are about nothing current. I remember reading once that people often remember trauma or start recovering from it once they feel happy and safe. It's a conundrum of sorts: "Wow, I'm so happy! Why am I so sad?" Perhaps, then, the sadness that lingers within me from time to time is the little creature I hold so dear to my heart, the one that remembers the loneliness, desolation, emptiness, pain. I liken this little person to Samantha, the little girl I saw in a haze several years ago. I did not know then who she was and an inner voice told me I'd be her mother one day. Thinking of it literally, I wondered over it, having already determined that I did not want children; yet each time I dated someone I inwardly wondered if perhaps she would in fact one day exist somehow. Then, too, I've occasionally wondered if she was a manifestation of an inner desire to have a child, despite all my outward protests to the contrary. Knowing that Dale does not want kids, either, however, I'm all too content with my decision and feel rather secure in our agreement.

So on occasion, I've gone back to the possible future ahead of us. Accidents can happen, so I've been told. And I do not know what the future truly holds. Yet in the past few months I've wondered more and more if perhaps the inner voice had nothing to do with the concept of a nuclear family; perhaps she is not meant to be a physical part of our lives at all. There have been times in my life where I have seen things that later happened, but this has always felt different. For so long I thought it was because it concerned me personally, and until then I could not remember anything that would eventually happen to me personally. My own life was a mystery, revealed only in time.

Who is this child I foresaw, then? Why was she so real, so tangible? If I'm honest with myself and look upon my memory of her face, I can only think that she is me. She is the sad child I once was, and with my adult knowledge and reasoning powers, I am in fact my own mother, nurturing myself and comforting those times of sadness when she comes out with tears in her eyes, afraid and unstable and full of wonder about the world around her despite the desperate uncertainty. I have become the person I always needed to teach me things that my faith could not show me directly.

Samantha, then, is that sadness which I hold dear, for without her, I would not exist. And rather than hold her in a prison for eternity, I've chosen to allow her the sense of freedom to be herself; I hold her upon my lap when she cries out, and hold her in my arms when she's most vulnerable. Is that not what an adult mother does for her child?

Today I'm not sad, though. Reflective, yes, but not sad. Another friend of mine - I believe I can call her more than an acquaintance now - seems to have been placed in my path almost as if by planned chance. We had a most interesting conversation recently, concerning faith and science and a number of other intellectual subjects. During our discourse, it struck me several times how much I enjoyed talking to this person, and how like-minded we are in quite a number of areas, yet still different. Being at a point of near-stagnation due to such levity being present in my life, I found it comforting to know that my brain is still so capable of learning and philosophizing with another human being.

True to form, that side of me which seizes hold of such encounters began a journey into the maze of twinkling lights and dizziness. I saw this person fade in and out of existence before me as I pulled back into the familiar realm of theory, discernment, and spirituality. This does not happen often and I revel in the abstractness of it, for my life now is so steadily based in what people consider reality.

Methinks I'll go for a walk and seek out some heavy cream, if it can be had in the town's store. Just baked some blueberry muffins and brewed a pot of tea, and the thought of a small side of cream is so luxuriously appealing that I have yet to touch my breakfast without it. Besides, this is the first day of my vacation, and the sun has decided to come out for the first time in days.

~nv

Long Trail Festival

Dudes!!! Like, I LOVE RapidWeaver!! It's the coolest thing since garlic nan!!

Anywho, I reworked the Long Trail Festival site. Some folks on the other side of the festival were apparently hoping to take over the site for me and run with it. I was happy to let them but I was fought for and kept on board as sole designer. So when she started sending me stuff to put up yesterday, I started feeling like maybe the site could use some sprucing up.

A few weeks ago, I'd obtained a copy of Rapid Weaver through a promotion Dale got me into. I think it was through MacZot, but with my memory these days... anywho, the program is for web design. I'd briefly tried out FrontPage and found it OK, but not fast enough. I'd rather code it all myself than use FrontPage unless I needed particularly special things like db links and such. Most recently I tried out iWeb and it made nice results, but just one little change, and it has to upload the whole site. That is a ROYAL pain in the butt, especially when you get up there with content. And everything is so controlled that it loads a bit slowly on some machines.

Rapid Weaver, however, has some pretty nice templates, uploads only UPDATED content, is easy to use, and supposedly you can customize your own templates somehow. That last is not so intuitive mind you but I'll figure it out eventually. I'm guessing it's made for the newbie designer and the more advanced stuff is found by advanced users, out of eyeshot of newbies so they don't inadvertently shoot themselves in the fingertip. I can respect that if that's the case and support it wholeheartedly. Still, I wish /I/ could find it within five minutes.

Me's thinkin' that I'll rework a few of my other sites, too, like Techie Tutorials for instance. Actually, that's the perfect site to do next because it's very run down and VERY much in need of repair. Unfortunately the design will be the easy part - it's the content I've got to rework, really. Hence the fact it's not done yet...

Anywho, there's my happiness for the day!!

Speed Reading

There is something called subvocalizing which many people do as they read. It entails "hearing" the words in your head. I am familiar with this because I do it occasionally as I write, and somewhat less so when I read. Dale thinks I read kinda fast already, and I'm sure I /used/ to. I could read a 300 page book in one night if I so chose. What happened, I wonder... LOL

Anywho, Dale sent me this neat article on how to speed read and why: http://zenhabits.net/2007/05/overclock-your-reading-speed/ I read through it and was on the sixth tip when he walked in. I started laughing because I realized I'd barely begun reading it and I was already through the whole article, and told him so. (In his email, he started out by saying, "Not that you need this, but...") Then Dale asked me, "But did you retain anything?" I immediately recalled something I'd not heard of before, a new word: saccades. It was toward the right side of the article, in blue, as if clicking on it would reveal a dictionary entry. I did not click it yet but intend to, as it's a new word. From context, I gathered it was something about little jumps of reading, perhaps chunks. I don't recall the six tips of speed reading to a T, but then, I wouldn't have if I had read it any slower, either. My brain retains whatever it feels like. [side note: I just looked up saccade. It's an eye movement which can last anywhere between 20 to 200 milliseconds. Now the sentence in which the word lived makes a bit more sense to me. Yay!]

Reading for me means information intake. When I read, I tend to form pictures or concepts in my head (actually, that was one of the tips - to visualize what you're reading, since the brain is largely geared towards recording visual input). These thoughts swirl around, reforming and reorganizing themselves until they settle into something a bit more concrete. Typically, when I'm truly engrossed in my reading material, I hear nothing at all in my head. One piece of the article did mention something about "losing interest" when one isn't reading quickly enough. I don't know if that's quite true, but it might be in some ways. If I'm not interested in something to begin with, it's difficult to immerse myself in its texts. So I tend to speed-read and skim through stuff. By doing this, I've discovered that I eventually run into a spot somewhere that I AM interested in, and this in turn makes me backtrack again and figure out how the text was able to lead up to what caught my attention. So, in this case, speed reading does help me retain interest (or rather, develop it). And, I retain FAR more information when I'm interested in it, so that in turn helps me learn new things.

On the other hand, I tend to read even faster when I'm learning or interested, because I "need" to know more - such as what happens in a novel, or how someone came up with a particularly neat theory, that sort of thing. You don't get that with speech. Speech is so much more limited! The stuttering, pauses, and idle conversation as thoughts proceed with the caution of an experienced dog sniffing a porcupine... with writing, all that has been done already, and whatever is uninteresting to the reader can be skipped. I love the written word for exactly this reason. It's more efficient in so many ways.

So, I finished the article and then noted that the authour, Kim Roach, loves productivity and has her own blog called The Optimized Life. Ooh!! This sounds like someone who might enjoy efficiency as much as I do!! It's so wonderful to find writers I truly enjoy reading. To combine this joy with a subject I'm interested in is a true rarity.

Anywho, I'm off to play with Photoshop now...

~nv

Ungh.

Aight, now that my camera's on the fritz, I've finally figured out that I can remove the little thingie on the tripod mount that has been driving me nuts and forcing the mount to keep unscrewing itself and going at an angle. You know the thing - it's a little metal thingie with another piece of metal screwed in in such a way to create a springy tension on the nubby thingie. Heh. That was technical. Anywho, when I screw the mount onto the bottom of the camera, it acts as - heck, I don't know what it's /supposed/ to do, but it pushes on the camera's body, effectively causing me to push against it more firmly as I screw it in. I was thinking this morning about how the threads in the camera are plastic, and began thinking, hm, maybe I shouldn't leave that thing screwed in... I could be wearing out my threads! But then it dawned on me: Why not remove the tension? Then it wouldn't keep unscrewing itself so much, right? And it would stop putting unnecessary pressure on the sides of the threads. One would think. Or maybe it's there for exactly that purpose.

At any rate, I've removed it, and am confident I can reapply if I deem necessary.

I wish I could fix my camera, however. It's out of warranty now, and just a month before our trip out west where I'm going to want to take more photos than ever before, the darned thing decides its batteries aren't charged enough. All five sets of them. Freshly charged. Oh, it'll work for a while, but after a short usage period (say, 10 minutes to a half hour), the indicator comes on saying the things are depleted. Changing batteries at that point is pointless. The best I can do is to keep using it until the camera *thinks* the batteries are completely dead, then wait one minute, turn it back on, and take one or two more shots or until it dies again. This is repeated until I leave it alone for a while, at which point the process starts up all over again.

The batteries are not depleted, I know that much, and I don't need statistical data to prove it to myself because I've been using this camera for over a year /very regularly/ I might add and I know how my camera usually behaves. So, here's my semi-scientific analysis of the problem: I KNOW my batteries last longer than this, not ALL my batteries would go bad at once because I bought them at different times, and if they WERE dead, they shouldn't work fine again an hour later. Some folks may not agree with this analysis, but they don't know my camera like I do, and they don't have a very strong interest in its behaviour like I do because they're not the ones with the problem.

That was a bit of a rant because Dale has asked me several times if I'm sure it's not the batteries. Bless him, he starts simple like a true troubleshooter should, but after the second doubt I get irritable. I know it's just my impatience and defensiveness glowing hotly through the hardened rock, but it's still reminiscent of when this drunken maintenance guy listened to my mom say that she put the five quarters into the machine, they went in fine, but the washer won't start. He bluntly wasted my mother's breath by asking, "Did you put quarters in?" Duh, the thing wouldn't have slid in if she hadn't, but that either means he didn't think that far ahead or he REALLY wasn't listening to a damned thing. But upon his drunken and lessened mental state, I digress: A little active listening would have been nice on his part.

Another rant: I typically enjoy being somewhat on the smart side. It allows me to be a bit lazy yet still retain knowledge. It's exciting to grasp ideas and figure things out on my own without having to ask someone else for lots of help. But. It. Has. Its. Downsides. For one thing, when I'm impatient or on thinking overtime (which usually translates to my being impatient), I have a LOT of trouble communicating and dealing with others. Especially others who are not on the same page as I am - i.e., unable to keep up with my thoughts, or on another tangent altogether, thus interrupting my flow of thinking. And, while I can admit that I can and do make lots of mistakes, it bothers me to no end when I'm trying to express my distaste for a problem that I am feeling unable to solve on my own, and hear basic troubleshooting that I have already considered and compensated for. I know it's all inside me, but dammit, I feel like the other person considers me stupid. (Note to self: I am aware I shouldn't and usually don't care much about what others think. Why does this bother me?) I know how "feeling stupid" is - I do it to people all the time in the field of computers. I understand it VERY well, in fact. So when my customers, especially those I know are somewhat computer-savvy, tell me of their troubles, I calmly say, "You have probably already tried this, but just so I know we're on the same page, would you do this?" Then I outline the basic steps they've done a million times already so I can absolutely rule out that they're technological nincompoops who are only SAYING they've tried everything. And I don't mean that in a particularly bad way, either, it's just fun to call people names. Especially when you have no clue what they actually do in their profession... see, I can imagine a nurse might think at some point in life, "I can not BELIEVE that girl just asked me that... egads, didn't she take health class when she was growing up?!" (No, actually, I wasn't actively listening apparently. I was probably staring at a hidden sheet of paper with lines of code on it because I was more interested in computers than where the groin is. See? We're not that different after all. We just have different interests.)

You know, I was just thinking about some of the "dumb things" I've heard people say. I suspect my reactions are not as subtle or reassuring as I think despite a firm belief that ignorance does not detract from a person's worth. I knew someone once who didn't know Boston, MA was on the ocean. Seriously. (For those of you going, "Huh? It is?" I suggest going to http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=boston,+ma&ie=UTF8&z=11&om=1 and checking it out yourself.) Now, I was not interested in history as a child, so my incredulous stare was due to the fact that even /I/ knew about the Boston Tea Party where they dumped tea into the harbour... which of course is directly attached to... ocean. Now, I figured at that point that while it's possible this guy didn't know harbours were attached to the ocean, after all this time he might have thought ahead to how ships from England got into a closed body of water in the first place and asked questions to find out what I finally explained to him in his late 20's. Savvy? Still, no biggie. Except, I was rather insensitive to this and vocalized my surprise at his ignorance, which he took to be my interpretation of his intellect (which it was not). He got rather defensive and quite abruptly ended the conversation by refusing to talk about Boston any more, regardless of its importance to our conversation. (Apparently of little importance, since I don't even remember what the conversation was originally about. I think it had to do with him driving a truck down there all the time years before, which also fueled my disbelief at his ignorance, I might add.)

You know what? I feel better now. I woke up feeling internalized. Meaning, withdrawn, irritable to some extent. I almost talked myself out of starting my day off badly; it's my day off and I didn't want to be a sourpuss all day long. So I thought about Dale and that led me to think about the trip. I started getting excited until I then thought about all the pictures we'll be taking, which then plummeted me into a horribly frustrated mood of angry insinuations toward Canon for creating a defective product. My problem is more likely not a defect but an unfortunate issue that occurs once in every hundred thousand cameras made, but I happen to be the unlucky consumer stuck with the problem so of course I'm taking it personally.

I think that I'm hormonal again, and anything that I can possibly construe as an irritation is going to become one until the hormones subside. (Sigh.)

Still, I'm now thinking of a few things I want to do today, and that's making me eager to put this blog to rest for the day: Shopping for luggage, fixing Dale's internet issue (Peaches chewed through his lifeline to the outside world), getting Indian Food. I also finally decided on which product I wanted to get Dale for his birthday. The decision was in the works for a couple of months and I fear I settled, but I wanted it ordered before it's too late.

Off I go, then, to find suitable clothing for today's adventures. And food. Yes, food would be good. Drinking less tea would probably be a good idea, too, since last time I got onto this bandwagon, my mood took a dive and almost cracked its neck... (internal child's voice: But I LIKE tea!!)

~nv

Mac-ity mac-ity

please come back-ity!

Uh, yeah, song in head. Anywho, last week I was talking to our
neighbours about petsitting and dude asked me, "Can you record from
tape to CD?" I thought it was a rhetorical question, you know, like,
"Is it possible to record from tape to CD" and I was like, "Yep." He
immediately hands me a tape.

Yeah. So, I just found said tape, and thought, "Oh boy, here we go
again, this is gonna take me like, half an hour to set up ... where's
my cable?" Fifteen minutes later, whilst talking to a friend on the
phone, I not only found my cable but also configured everything and
had it working to the point of hitting "record." In fact, I would
have had it recording /earlier/ than that, but I spent five or ten
minutes trying to figure out what was wrong because I had no sound in
my headphones. If I had done this just once before and really read
what I'd chosen about quality and buffering, I would have noticed
that if you record the way I'm recording, you don't get to hear
anything.

Macs are great, GarageBand is just unbelievably awesome - the mac
alone is worth close to what one pays for it; adding the apps to it
is exponentially worth every penny and then some. So, I'm just
waiting for this tape to finish up, then I'll meet my *husband* for
lunch and an AAA meeting about our trip out west. Fun, fun!! And
later I'll be headed to my friend's house so we can go fishing (me -
and her baby mind you - for the first time). YAY!

Lessee... anything else... I was in a bit of a funk all last week (or
two), but methinks I'm out of it. I realized I was in need of my
independence, and once I finally admitted that to myself, it's like I
felt I had the option and it just sorta melted away. I'm glad; it
sucked, being sad whilst happy. But now I appreciate happiness all
the more so it is all good. Could have been just the drop off of
getting married, too - I've heard lots of people go through that; I
didn't think I would because I had no big plans for the wedding,
nothing MAJOR to look forward to, therefore nothing MAJOR to drop off
from. I expected everything to pretty much stay the same afterward.
And it has. Still, marriage does have some implications I guess, and
maybe that's where the independence thing came from.

At any rate, it's passed. Speaking of things passing, I ran into an
acquaintance last night at work. I'd met this guy over two years ago
and took a liking to him (okay, so it was really more of a strong
interest). I was fighting off the concept of relationships but was
half-hoping he might ask me out. He never did, and now I'm glad of
it because it could have occurred just before I met Dale, and I may
not have started dating Dale at all - VERY scary thought, that.
Anywho, the guy still seems just as nice, but I realized that it was
almost as if I saw in him an element that I was ready to accept, and
Dale's got that element plus everything else I was hoping to find in
a lifelong partner. Kinda like a foreshadowing of what was about to
come into my life - a noble gentleman with that same type of calm,
delicate character that attracted me as I grew into who I am now.

And by delicate, I do mean that in a manly way. LOL.

Anywho, off to meet the man of my dreams now. We're gonna eat at
Burger King and do our trip thing and YAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So awesome, he and I. *happy sigh*

~nv

English Class

I was chatting with someone at work yesterday about how I hated
English class. I didn't hate my teachers, just what they wanted me
to do: Become someone else. At least, that's how I saw it at the
time. Still do, although I'm less inclined to believe my strongest
convictions about that.

Well, somehow I'd graduated despite my distaste for duplicating
literary achievements. It was not due to hard work, however. My
whole education can be summarized thusly: Memorize books, Teacher's
pet, bookworm, enjoys learning, outcast from most social groups due
to personality and intelligence. I don't think I was one of those
snobby types who was always purposely showing off my brain, but I was
eager to demonstrate my understanding of a subject and converse with
those who harboured more knowledge than I - such as my teachers.
(They of course liked this, hence "Teacher's Pet.")

To this day I am uncertain as to exactly what I learned in English
Class. Beyond grammar, punctuation, and the proper formation of
sentences, alongside the introduction to writers I may not have known
about otherwise, what did I learn? That moulding myself into someone
I'm not is not my thang? What, then, of English majors? Are they
such hapless writers that they might actually have benefited from
being taught to write in others' styles? Did they not have their /
own/ style? Or did I miss the point entirely, and if so, why could
no one get through to me?

Curious, then, that the reason for this post is a notation to myself
that English Class taught me something both useful and detrimental.
It's something called "Complete Sentences." Most of my coworkers are
not particularly literary in their emails. This morning I was
reading email and saw a response to someone else. The writer simply
put: "it's done" - no punctuation, capitalization, etc. Wouldn't
surprise me if she'd even left out the apostrophy! I wrote to her
and said, "I need to take lessons from you on how to write shorter
emails." And as I wrote that, I could honestly not find any way
whatsoever to shorten that in a timely manner. Whatsoever.

I cannot imagine writing such an email. I am filled with horror at
the mere suggestion of it, even as I admire this person who can write
two quick words in response to what, for her, might be a month's
worth of writing. How I wish I could write simply when the need is
there!! My coworkers would love me!! Where my writing skills were
praised in high school, they are despised in the workforce.

Perhaps I missed my calling, then, after all.

I may never know.

~nv

Poems

WHO WE ARE
2007042421 - c2007 WLC

Look what has happened
I was a geek without purpose
A heart without love
A soul without cause

Like waves in the sea
You crept alongside
Rocking my boat
So gently; you love

I knew who I was
Now I'm learning
Who we are
And who I am with you

---

SHAKING
2007042421 - c2007 WLC

I feel these words screaming
Beating their wings
Against bars of a cage
Shaking and trembling
Cold in their prison
A beam of light the only warmth
But it's all futile
To scream out their meanings
To give them free rein
It would take years
For words can't express
The feelings inside
Can't tell of the love
That lives inside my very essence
The very core of my existence
You've touched me
Deep inside
You've touched my heart
With an understanding hand
I've loved some things
But these tears in my eyes
Are exasperated waters
Dammed up over this inexpression
Of my love for you
My husband
And partner for life