20101120
Am I British?
Tea Room
20101114
tea
20101113
Snow Leopard
20101031
POEM: EMPTY WINDOW
2010103101 - c2010 WLC
Another empty window
I want to fill it up with glee
Shiny surface gleaming
Like you have done for me
Sometimes I'm wrought with worry
But it must be clear to see
Despite a past of obstacles
I am with you happily
The past is nothing more than that
The future isn't ours to view
But in the present, where we are,
Is this gift of you
So I reminisce
Forget to live
With he who has
So much to give
Where do I go when I'm not here
Identifying with my words
Spelling out my history
Fingers singing like the birds
Lost within my memories
Looking forward to my past
So that I can live it over
Just in case it doesn't last
Yet still an empty window
I never have that much to give
I feel an endless pool of wonder
For your staying here to live
Wrought with worry, so afraid
It isn't very clear to see
Despite a past of disappointment
I'm still with you happily
Lost within my memories
Looking forward to my past
So that I can live it over
Just in case it doesn't last
20101013
Finally found my style
20101012
pledge of allegiance
I was visiting some friends tonight and we somehow got on the subject of removing religion from school, etc. I mentioned how the Pledge of Allegiance oughta be removed as well if they need to go doing that. I was very decidedly met with disagreement. Very strong disagreement. "You don't deserve to be a citizen if you don't want to say it," I was told.
Why?
Here are my arguments:
1. People GENERALLY are told to say it as little kids. Little kids do not understand its implications, so at that time, it is either meaningless, brainwashing, and/or merely teaching what the words are so they can say it and MEAN it down the road.
2. A pledge should be honoured as such, and thus not require repeating. Thus repeating the Pledge over and over and over every day at school, at ball games, et al, cheapens the heartfelt meaning behind it and makes pledging less powerful and less serious.
3. It can be spoken with no meaning. Simply saying the words means that you are agreeing with/trying to fit in with/obeying/fearing/deceiving your peers.
4. Justice is subject to major changes in the country's standards. So, by pledging that you want justice for all, you are stating that whatever the laws are at the time, even if it is that whites who kill blacks cannot be imprisoned but that blacks who kill whites can be, then you are OK with that. That would be justice at that time. Fifty years later, the law could flip to the reverse, and you would need to be OK with that, too. I personally would prefer to call everyone equal, which is what /I/ was taught this country is about. Of course we know it is not, but I would dare to hope we will one day get there. I am an idealist, unfortunately for me. But, the whole "justice" word is more a question of symantics.
5. Under God. Do atheists recite the Pledge? What about religious folk who cannot pledge allegiance to anyone but their own God? What about idolatry? This addition is good in theory, but really does not work in today's world. I also read somewhere that the addition was made in respect to some speech which more correctly meant "God willing," which means it is not even worded right.
6. I have always had, and still have, a problem with "the flag." Why not just "I pledge allegiance to the usa?" Why the flag? It is a symbol, but so what? Are they trying to get us to say we will not burn the flag or otherwise be disrespectful to it? I do not understand this particular portion. Flags can change... ours has changed several times, with the addition of states, for instance. What if it changes? Is "the flag" always the current one? Does it include every flag the U.S. has used? I am thoroughly confused. Why would we care about a flag, anyway? Isn't it more important to worry about our country than a piece of material?
Why, in a democracy... and it is a democracy, is it not? Why, then, do some people feel I am unpatriotic, or worse, not worth my own American-born citizenzhip, simply for questioning the Pledge and disagreeing with saying it in school? To those people, I say you are close-minded people who simply accept what you are told and you might as well go live in a country with a monarch. No questions allowed, blindly follow your leaders and forget about what America is supposed to really mean. Don't tell ME how wonderfully free our country is if you refuse to further define what you mean by "free."
From my understanding, kids are not to be forced to say the Pledge, for many of the same reasons. This extended to when I was in school but I distinctly recall being scolded for questioning it in fifth or sixth grade when I finally began to understand some of the implications. I feel this left a rather long-lasting effect on me (ya think?) and I do not want to have this same impression of "you are free, but only if you agree with me and follow these rules and say these words even if you have no idea what they mean" to be bestowed on other children. We do not want other countries teaching their kids crap like this, so why should we teach ours the same thing? Let them mean it!
GOD BLESS AMERICA!
-w
20101011
Rant spawned by Angry Birds discussions
20101001
20100905
Review of recent events
20100904
Review: You Never Listen To me
Note: The imagery I describe below is my own interpretation. It is not intended to reflect anything in the singer's or songwriter's life - personally, I'm guessing the song is about a relationship after childhood, or about something the songwriter saw in life.
It has been ages since I have heard this. At one time, it had a very negative connotation to it for me, because it described how I felt about my relationship with my mother. Now, those things have been resolved... or at least, I moved out, and we've since grown both apart and together in a more healthy, meaningful way.
The song starts out with a definite note of seething, cautionary anger. It sounds dangerous, the only word I can use to describe it with any accuracy. As if someone is standing there in its midst, about to explode. It brings forth images of a dark alleyway, shadows cast upon the walls from a streetlight shining in at an angle. The shadows move, and within the alley is a frightened teenager, hiding within a gang, the only place this person feels he belongs. Then the song opens up to tell the tale.
He is off alone in this alley, with the shadows moving off on one end, him in the shadows. He thinks back to his parents, who would not grant him any attention. His inner voice is hurt and angry. The guitar nods its agreement. He left home and joined this gang so that they would miss him, but of course they don't, and he's even angrier. They must be blind; they haven't noticed him gone, wasting their precious time! How could they not notice? Little splatters of a stringed instrument tangle themselves in the melody. Synths weave slowly through the tale, lending an eerie, angry tone, phantasmal in its vague, hazy appearance. An electric bass becomes his army of one, marching to the sound of the battle's heat.
All he wants is for someone to listen to him. Ghostly voices murmur this dissent in the background. The guitar echoes his pain. Synthesizers thread through his hideaway, building walls to keep out the damp, musky mold that grows on the trash in the alley. He shivers with the cold as he yells out, "I can't go on, knowing you're never a part of me." The ghosts continue to haunt him in the background. They won't leave him alone. He's one with the gang now. He cannot leave and keep what little remains of his sad, bitter life. His hopes refused to be dashed, but he does not know how to get out, to find happiness.
[Note: I LOVE the way he pronounces some of these words, "I can't go on" for instance... omg, it's almost British even!]
As he recedes behind a scrabble of trash cans, his army of one marches on down the alleyway, lending cover to his scrawny frame. He falls asleep in the noise of the battle.
~whitney
One Good Woman review... again, I'm sure.
20100829
Who am I?
20100812
DESK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
20100725
Poem: The Current
2010072571 - c2010 wlc
Currently
Richard Marx plays on my mac
Lisa's scarfing medicine
You're upstairs reading
My everything
Yesterday
So full of emotion, I
Suppressed the overwhelming feelings
Went out to see a friend
Lest I send me reeling
Today
I waded into water
The current took me into it
I felt so weightless yet so strong
Just a candle barely lit
Tomorrow
I'll head to work again
In my heart is where you'll be
I'll talk to people 'bout a desk
But it's your face I always see
Currently
Not a weight upon my shoulders
I ebb and flow, a pond with wind
Fed by springs, both warm and cold
Outward calm, alive within
20100718
Music class memory
20100717
Rule Number One: Cook Lentils Separately
rat a tat tat part two
Rat a tat tat
20100716
iPhone 4 rant
20100619
celery
20100530
Article on APD
it to a T from my point of view.
This main part especially (quoted from the article):
---beginning of snip---
It began with a haircut before her son started first grade. Blake had
already been working with a speech therapist on his vague responses
and other difficulties, so when he asked for a "little haircut" and
she pressed him on his meaning, she told the barber he wanted short
hair like his brother's. But in the car later, Blake erupted in tears,
and Ms. O'Donnell realized her mistake. By "little haircut," Blake
meant little hair should be cut. He wanted a trim.
"I pulled off on the freeway and hugged him," Ms. O'Donnell said. "I
said: 'Blakey, I'm really sorry. I didn't understand you. I'll do
better.' "
That was a turning point. Ms. O'Donnell's quest to do better led her
to Ms. Heymann, who determined that while Blake could hear perfectly
well, he had trouble distinguishing between sounds. To him, words like
"tangerine" and "tambourine," "bed" and "dead," may sound the same.
"The child hears 'And the girl went to dead,' and they know it doesn't
make sense," Ms. Heymann told me. "But while they try to figure it
out, the teacher continues talking and now they're behind. Those
sounds are being distorted or misinterpreted, and it affects how the
child is going to learn speech and language."
Blake's brain struggled to retain the words he heard, resulting in a
limited vocabulary and trouble with reading and spelling. Abstract
language, metaphors like "cover third base," even "knock-knock" jokes,
were confusing and frustrating.
Children with auditory processing problems often can't filter out
other sounds. The teacher's voice, a chair scraping the floor and
crinkling paper are all heard at the same level. "The normal reaction
by the parent is 'Why don't you listen?' " Ms. Heymann said. "They
were listening, but they weren't hearing the right thing."
--- end of snip ---
My own experience includes an incident when I was around five years of
age. The speech therapist told me that if I didn't say what she did,
that my mother would leave me there and never come back for me. I
looked up at the door. My mother was standing on the other side,
looking in, saw me look up, and smiled, waving. Her mouth opened and
she said, "Bye!" I was petrified but still couldn't say what the
woman wanted. It was not until I was in my twenties that I confronted
my mother about it. She had no idea what I was talking about at
first, then exclaimed, "Oh! I used to look in on you, yes. I might
have waved and said "hi" but I would never have gone along with what
she said. In fact, I took you out of there because I saw her hit you
once. She threatened me with Child Services and everything, but I
wouldn't bring you back to her after that." I replayed the video
memory in my head many times after that, and realized that "hi" and
"bye" look very similar when you're lip-reading at five years old.
That one revelation all but erased years of built-up anger towards her
for wanting to leave me just because I couldn't talk right.
I also once heard my mother say "I'm all out of panty-liners" when she
had really said "I'm all out of candy bars." I had no contextual
reference at the time, and an argument ensued because I responded in
what I thought was a helpful manner while she thought I was teasing
her. It was the first time I remember that she withdrew and asked me
what I'd heard, rather than both of us just storming off into our
separate corners. I was in my late teens at the time.
My vocabulary never suffered that much, though, because Mom, God bless
her, taught me the value of the Written Word at a VERY early age. In
fact, my coping mechanisms were strengthened greatly by my love and
appreciation of the written word. I didn't learn words by hearing
them, I learned them by reading them. Eventually, I knew so many that
when I didn't understand a spoken word, I could look up the sounds in
my internal Dictionary and figure out what was really said by making
comparisons to other words that might sound similar. Sometimes, I
hear an unfamiliar word only to realize I never knew how it was
pronounced, just spelled! Then my brain makes a new connection.
And yes, background noise is horrible. Just horrible. Crowds are
worse, but they make me give up entirely so it's less taxing.
Background noise means I /should/ hear but I don't, and it puts
tremendous strain on my energy reserves while I try to compensate.
~w
20100526
20100523
Standard search
When I start getting more serious about a new vehicle, what I think I will do is go visit every dealership in a hundred mile radius of here and simply say I am comfort-finding.
My desires for a standard will start with these items:
I get into car and can twist around to see out back of me. If I cannot see easily, the car is done, right there.
I do not feel too cramped, no immediate backache, no confinement of arms with seat pulled forward into my positioning.
Once these requirements are met, then I would ask Questions:
Mpg?
Cost?
Features available?
And other things I might think of.
If all of the above meet my desires, then I would want a test drive. This would be a final determining factor, but I would not buy right then and there, but rather, continue this process until I found a couple strong possibilities. Then I would need to make a decision!
Another method to get accustomed to models would be to ask friends if I can sit in the driver's seat and take a peek around... :)
-w
20100522
Lisa
mention that Lisa, my rat, is safe and sound despite my stupidity.
Whenever I'm at my desk (often) I let her run around my desk, stealing
food if it's present. She's finally become quite content with this.
Last night was one of these nights. However, she was enjoying herself
so much that she had an extended run of the desk before finally
situating herself back in her tank. Meanwhile, it was nearing my
bedtime, and I began to doze off. I caught myself doing this and
ventured up to bed, completely forgetting that Lisa's tank was still
wide open.
I awoke this morning at 6am, still ruminating over the iPhoto issue,
when suddenly I saw her little face looking at me through my mind's
eye. I sat bolt upright, realizing that at that very moment it was
entirely possible that she'd ventured out during the night, one of the
cats heard her, and, my presence being elsewhere, she ended up
shishkabobbed on one of their claws. I began having unwelcome images
float through my head at what I might find on my way down the stairs.
Thankfully, the blessed little soul either stayed in her tank safely
tucked away in her sleeping box, or the cats are so accustomed to her
noises that they didn't realize the peril they could have put her in.
From now on, she has a curfew so when I hit mine she's not forgotten.
~w
picture havoc
right now, but thankfully I had a good night's sleep and was able to
get over my confusion and anger long enough to figure out what had
happened. It also helps that I know I have a backup of the photos
themselves.
Over the past couple weeks, I've been going through my iPhoto library
(the final resting place of all my photos once they've been processed
and backed up). While browsing my shots, I began to find pictures
that couldn't be found. I.e., I could see them in iPhoto, but trying
to open them beyond their thumbnails and ratings and other db stuff
would tell me screw you, cannot find it.
[In case you don't know, iPhoto is a program from Apple that acts like
a photo warehouse. It displays photos in small visuals until you
click them. It also allows you to describe the pictures, categorize
them, and organize them, as well as do some minor retouching.
Typically, my photos get copied to the directory iPhoto uses to find
the pictures, creating yet another copy of them in itself.]
I tried repairing the whole library and got scads of these missing
items. Scads. Then last night I discovered a brand-new missing photo
that I know I just barely put in there. Something wasn't right. So,
I realized it wasn't just older stuff since 2009, but also newer
stuff. No apparent pattern at all!! It couldn't be corruption of one
directory, etc, because it concerned pictures from all over the map.
After some research I came up with this:
http://forums.macosxhints.com/showthread.php?p=559846
This turns out to be exactly what my problem was: Somehow, a little
checkbox in the preferences on importing pictures into iPhoto was
clicked off along with the color profile embedding. User-style, of
course, I don't recall unchecking this or even knowing of its
existence, but it was unchecked. What this unchecking did was create
"shortcuts" to the pictures. Well, since I thought iPhoto was still
importing the pictures into itself, I've been freely moving my
directories at will. What confirmed this for me was finding some
website pictures go missing. In February, I began using iWeb for my
website design and moved all my sites' RapidWeaver folders off the
hard drive to an external one. The pictures that were in there had
been copied into iPhoto and I just noticed them to be missing. So I
tracked down the aliases and figured out where they had pointed to.
When I saw "rapidweaver" I knew exactly where those had gone to.
While I know I've lost /some/ photos, those don't matter because they
were off the 'net and not my own precious memories. I probably have a
time machine backup of them if I look hard enough. And, I have all
the missing filenames, so it's not difficult to restore things to
perfect balance and harmony. Everything is named by date so finding
them is super easy. The problem now is my hard drive space. That's
the original reason I moved crap off my hard drive in the first
place!! So, I'm looking into two things: 1, upgrade my hard drive to
a larger one and 2, using this helper program called iPhoto Buddy
(http://www.iphotobuddy.com/) to split up my library into smaller
pieces (by year, perhaps). The smaller pieces could be archived to a
couple externals for safekeeping, leaving me with more recent items to
enjoy. Eventually, I plan to pare down the library anyway (one reason
I was going through it). This would also make it easier on me to
revamp the hard drive a bit later because things would be more
manageable. (Currently, I'm not planning to clone the drive; I want
to start fresh with a new OS.)
Anywho, I need some time off work to futz with the hard drive piece,
but my backups can be brought in little by little in the interim. No
sweat.
Very relieved Mac user who was actually able to figure out what the problem was,
~w
20100520
Welts
Second, I was so irritated with it that I bent my arm like a n00b and
gave myself a nice string burn. Then I got so ticked off that I tried
being a righty for a while and gave myself a nice pair of three-inch-
long arrow burns on my right hand, complete with two oozy scratches at
either end. Nothing major, but enough to remind me that I'm a left-
handed archer and that this bow SUCKS.
Compensating for the design of the crappy bow, I did manage to hit the
target three times out of 44 attempts. It would have been 45 attempts
but I lost an arrow in the swamp on the second round.
My arrow maker is going out of business, too. Dammit.
At least the third round had all the arrows in the same general area,
an indication that I'd begun adapting to the darned thing.
I want a machete.
~w
20100515
The Simple Life
peeks out now and again, but for the most part, it's slightly humid
with an overcast of clouds. I sit here typing this whilst drinking
Ovaltine and some wheat berry bread that Dale made from a box mix in
our breadmaker. Usually we make bread in that thing with ingredients
kept on hand, but he likes this particular type of bread and finds the
box recipe yummy enough. So, boxed it is. This time. ::rubbing
hands together::
As for me, I'm not overfond of the stuff, but a couple warm, fresh
slices cannot be passed up. This modest meal comes after a short
while outside, wiping down my truck's windshield, the interior, and
the side windows. I rainx'ed the windshield and then proceeded down
the slope of the yard to the four truck tires I piled up down there.
Today I planted the sprouted potatoes that have been growing in our
cupboard much of this winter. We'll see what happens.
In our raised beds, freshly tilled (and one long one freshly made by
Dale just this past week!!), I've already planted a row of lettuce and
a row of peas. In two weeks, I'll plant another row of each, and two
weeks later, another row. The idea is to avoid being inundated with
too many veggies at once and extend the harvest. Once all danger of
frost is past, I'll also be planing a plethora of other vegetables and
a few melons. Some, I'll need to plant all at once, but others I will
also stagger the plantings.
Our strawberry plants made it through the winter. In fact, they
appear to be quite hardy indeed. The one that gave us three
strawberries in its very first season has tripled in size this spring.
The others spread somehow, and it has been made obvious that they
plan to take over the original garden plot. The green onions,
meanwhile, aren't complaining about it. They are thick and about to
blossom, obviously unconcerned about the potential threat. This is
their third year of providing for me and all I did was plant two rows
of seeds three years ago. They, and the strawberries, are the easiest
things we've thrown in our garden! They simply take care of
themselves!!
In the house, meanwhile, Dale planted some tomatoes and peppers. The
tomatoes took right off and are about three or four inches tall in a
matter of weeks. The peppers just began sprouting a few days ago and
now we have a few that are nearing an inch. Dale is very excited.
Very. He plans to build the biggest, baddest, most securest fence
around his pepper plants that can ever be built, and no cat is going
anywhere near the would-be litterbox. This will be our second attempt
to grow peppers. I hope that with the fence, he'll succeed in his
endeavour. I'd really like to see him eating his own peppers in a few
months. I can just picture the joy on his face!
Earlier in the week, Dale borrowed my truck to get a good deal of
mulch. I took his car to work. We each had our excitement. While I
was full of adrenaline telling everyone how I successfully drove a
standard into work that morning, he was off watching mulch get dumped
into the bed of the truck, making the suspension bounce up and down
with trucky glee. He told me later that seeing this would have made
me feel proud. He also admitted that he felt sorta "macho" driving
that thing. I told him about my adventures with his car, and also
admitted that I kinda felt "cool" driving THAT thing. We exchanged
happy, impish smiles and agreed that we'd have to swap off now and
again. A colleague called the car "the twitchy fun car" and somehow
Dale called the car "Twitchy" as if that is the name. For me, it's
stuck. Ha.
We also went over to a friend's house and had a good meal, some nice
conversation and watched Avatar (for us, the second time). It's the
second time we went there and enjoyed their hospitality, and have
determined that we need to invite them over here sometime soon.
Dale has a colleague at work who is Chinese. He asked her about tea
for me and she rather promptly came into work with a couple of samples
for him to take home to me. I wasn't expecting such a surprise and
was thoroughly excited. After an hour of debate with myself over the
very familiar flavour, I have determined that it must be Da Hong Pao.
The packaging is all in Chinese so I'll have to wait for Dale to ask
her to make sure I am correct. I am certain that it's an oolong, and
only a bit less certain that it's a wuyi of some sort. I will not be
surprised, however, if I have determined the exact flavour. I had
purchased a bag of the stuff from a more local distributor a good year
ago, and despite not having it for a while, recall the multiple levels
of flavour it provided my palate. I also seem to recall thinking that
da hong pao reminded me of Kukicha (the twig version, not green). I
had this same impression from the unknown sample I tried this morning.
Of course, now I want to give his colleague something in return for
this combination of detective work and wondrous enjoyment of taste.
I've decided on two jars of locally made fruit spreads. I was at a
loss at first, but after reviewing several sites on Chinese culture,
these seem like a good idea somehow. Apparently it is not good luck
to receive an odd number of items so this is why I'm doing two rather
than one; in addition, I wanted to ensure the possibility that at
least one is liked. Chinese supposedly appreciate food that is local
to the gift giver (especially if it's new to them, hm, we've got lots
in common there). They also seem to like sweets. Finally, they're
very socially-oriented so I figure they would want to share. Granted,
these are all generalities, but I figure it's all close enough to
American thoughts on gifts that I can't go horribly wrong and my gift
will, at worst, not be fully appreciated by one or more Chinese
palates. I'm guessing, though, that with two different flavours, at
least ONE will be liked by someone. And it means an even number of
items to avoid the potential of an unlucky number. The most I need to
do now is make sure I don't put them in a white or blue bag upon
delivery. White's apparently for death and I have forgotten what blue
is but it's a no-no. I found my research quite interesting. While I
find it entertaining that so many cultures live by what some consider
superstition, I also respect the various ways of people and their
beliefs. So, to learn new things about people, that's cool.
There is something very wonderful to be said for having some simple
things in life. On this lazy Saturday afternoon, we've already
maintained our vehicles, cared for a garden which will provide us with
home-grown, organic food, and enjoyed simple food. Later we will
visit the nearby store and purchase a few staples. Everything we need
is within a half-hour of here, including work. We're surrounded by
greenery and a beautiful house. Our critters are healthy and we're
healthy, too, other than the few minor pains of creeping closer to
middle age and the occasional struggle with an old injury.
Life is _very_ good. I have found that I am quite content in this
environment. There is nothing wrong with being laid back and doing
things for oneself and one's family.
~nv
20100410
I love my iPad
SCREEEEEEAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM omg it is soooo coooollll!
Sent from my iPad
20100408
POEM: Internment
2010040841 - c2010 WLC
I'm well aware of strengths I have
And quite aware of weaknesses
I know this love I have inside
Too well I know of speechlessness
My fingers, then, are like an army
Marching in a symphony
Pouring out the things I can't
Express without their tympany
For in my throat, a struggling bird
Long imprisoned in its stir
Riding out the storm and waiting
For its freedom to occur
What if, perchance, it waits for naught?
What if it is forever caught?
Never once to truly sing?
Never once to say a thing?
This is my weakness, my desire
I cannot sing, yet still aspire
To feel the easing of release
Permit expression, inner peace
So joyful would her singing be
If only once outside this cage
Her voice could open and be free
Instead she's caught within her rage
~nv
20100331
Photography thoughts
photography that I like.
1. New gadget syndrome: The process of learning all these new
features and testing the waters without any real professional
understanding. This is the process in which the camera becomes one
with my body. The features aspect can take a few days to a couple
weeks, but the bonding comes with experience.
2. Picture-taking: This comes after the camera has become a part of
my body. It's when I see a shot I want and get it without thinking
about how to do so. It's the slightly less creative side of me
because it's more intuitive than thoughtful.
3. Push-to-limits syndrome: This is when I've exhausted everything I
can find in the features and have indefatigably attempted the same
shot over and over with no success, then get really close by using a
flashlight or some other means to trick the camera into doing what I
want, or close to it. This is the point where my interest peaks
briefly during a tertiary creative phase, then flattens out into
disgust and aggravation when even creativity has found its limit.
Maverick hit that last point a year after I met Dale. Oxide and
Obsidian did not get there naturally, because Oxide tried to byte the
dust on me and Sid was overshadowed by the exceptionally better camera
Dale has been using which gave me shot ideas I could not obtain with
the equipment I had. Hence, early retirement as I spring into the
world of SLRs.
Very interesting analysis, though, for so early in the morning.
(9am) LOL
~me
20100330
Dream
He's sweet. The flash appears a bit more natural, it does better in
low light, etc. But on a night when I cannot sleep, his complexity
and myriad of features had me reading his manual. This meant that
something was on my mind as I fell asleep.
As such, I dreamt of photography.
So, last night I was content and asleep, and I'm dreaming of this cool
shot. I don't even remember what it was. But in my dream, I raise my
camera and go to press the button and - SOMEONE grabs my BOOB!! There
was no one in the dream so I open my eyes and after several confusing
moments, realize my hand was acting out the dream.
That hand caused me a good shot. Well, sorta. Okay, considering I
can't even remember what the shot was, and it would have been a
temporary one anyway considering it was only in my head... I suppose
it's a good thing that I woke up just before the alarm. Still... not
the first time my hand has woken me up out of a sound sleep. One
night I woke up and my hands were fluttering in my face. I remember
recognizing the flutters as sign language and was able to interpret
much of it, although it was a bit incoherent. Then I realized I'd
been signing in my sleep. I've also woken up and found myself typing
in my sleep.
My hands are apparently quite vocal at all hours of the day. I've
often wondered if they're not even mine...
~w
20100308
0111 Things I love
0001. I LOVE FIREFLY.
0010. I LOVE RED DWARF.
0011. I LOVE OSMANTHUS OOLONG.
0100. I LOVE GOOGLE. Get this - Dale says, "Huh. Says to register
but doesn't give a phone number." Two seconds later: "Dale, it's xxx-
xxxx." Google at my fingertips. I loves its.
0101. I LOVE THE INTERNETS. For which # 0100 would not have been
possible in the way it is.
0110. I LOVE GOOD BUSINESSES. I recently got orthotics for what I
felt was a developing case of Plantar Fasciitis. All the signs were
there, but only in winter for the most part, so I'd ignored it for a
good two years or so. The guy was great, gave me some helpful advice,
etc, but I didn't listen as well as I should and then even after
taking it really easy the pain had only increased while wearing the
orthos. I began to wonder if perhaps my foot was worse than I'd
thought and maybe I should have seen a doc before getting orthos. So
I called a podiatrist. The lady was really nice and I explained the
issues briefly to which she immediately asks, "How long have you tried
breaking them in?" I'm like, "A week." (This is about what I thought
the guy told me.) She laughs and informs me that I should definitely
give it more time, at least a month, and that I should only wear them
an hour one day, two hours the next, etc (what the guy told me, and
I've been averaging one or two hours a day since the first few days of
way-too-long-and-I-admit-it). She also told me that if there's pain,
I'm pushing too hard and should cut back until I can push more. So I
ended up not making the appointment, and she seemed fine with that.
It is VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY RARE for a doctor's office to give such
advice over the phone let alone doing so without a) me being a patient
and b) not getting immediate business out of the deal. Of course, I
am now in awe and assuming my foot turns out good I will promote the
office to the ends of the earth, so in the end, they still win.
0111. I LOVE DALE. I know this goes without saying, but I have to
mention this because it's true and it's important to reiterate
awesomeness. What are some of the things he's done or said lately to
deserve this praise? Lots of things. Mostly little things. The
smile on his face, the light in his eyes; they always capture my heart
and hold it a willing prisoner. A couple days ago he reminded me to
do something that was financially beneficial to me. He helped me help
my [our] friend move. He's patient with me. He doesn't argue, only
expresses his opinions or thoughts and lets me do the same, coming to
conclusions with me rather than forcing things down my throat. He's
willing to help me with projects, the few I have that welcome more
extensive involvement. He's fun to go out and do stuff with. TV Time
is made even better by his presence, even when we don't talk much.
Meals take less time and are more fun because of him. English Muffin
Pizza. Taco Bell. Stair Pong. Yep. I love the guy. What can I say?
20100220
Osmanthus Oolong
My recipe:
2 TBS Osmanthus Oolong
Heat 18oz water to just barely starting to bubble (you know that
growly sound the pot suddenly makes when the bubbles are about to form?)
Pour over tea and brew for 2.5 minutes
Strain
O...M...G...
~w
20100217
Poem: Bubbles
2010021731 - c2010 WLC
Tiny bubbles cling together
Floating in a pool of amber
Surrounded by a wall of green
Popping tiny breaths unseen
I sit here up against my mum
Playing Scrabble as you curl
Blissful in my solitude
But not without my gratitude
For when you're gone
Our love goes on
Inside a happy dancing heart
We are never quite apart
I watch TV on the internet
Never trying to forget
The happy looks that you provide
Without you, we'd not survive
The door swings wide
You walk inside
I drink the bubbles in my cup
I'll see you when I wake up
20100216
spinach
...AND LIKED IT!!!!!!!!!
GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M ALL GROWNED UP!!!!!!!
WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
20100118
damned if you do...
Earlier today I was at work. This lady calls up and says, "Mr. Brown
is here from XYZ company and needs to get on our wireless network.
It's asking for credentials. What are they?"
After the usual verification stuff, I tell her the password he'll
need. She says, with a slight edge suggesting that she wants to make
darned sure she understands me right, "That's ALL he's going to need
to enter? Nothing else?" "Nope," I say, and I hear "Okay, thanks,"
and the click of her hanging up. I continued talking to the phone as
I also hung up: "unless, of course, he's got one of those clients
that defaults to 64 bits instead of 128 bits in which case he'll need
to look for that setting on whatever client he's got and change it to
the other one... but if that's the case I'll find out soon enough
because you'll call back."
Then I hear a very soft snicker on the other side of the cubicle and
begin to laugh to myself, because I realized I hadn't given her all
the information he /might/ need, not because I was trying to screw
anyone, but because I knew the chances of him /having/ that type of
client were likely slim. In the past, I'd give too MUCH information
just to be safe, and end up confusing the dickens out of someone
because 9 times out of 10 they didn't need the information in the
first place. 'Tis best, at times, to leave out typically-unimportant
information and provide it on a need-to-know basis even if it means
someone has to call back (which makes me appreciate having to call
people back, now - the person was being thoughtful about my level of
understanding by refusing to confuse me with a bunch of inapplicable
crap). Still, I had to voice this concern, so I made it known to
myself as a muttered sidenote aimed at her hang-up click.
I.T. support is an art form. In addition to reading minds, we have to
quickly disseminate only needed information for equipment we can only
make guesses at while an agreeable but intensely busy person on the
other end waits for your pleasantly helpful voice to spew forth easy-
to-understand, nontechnical information that's highly complex and
technical in nature.
~nv
synesthesia
http://scienceblogs.com/cognitivedaily/2010/01/synesthesia_and_the_mcgurk_eff.php
SPOILER BELOW... if you want to listen and watch for yourself, you can
read this after you're done...
The interesting thing about what occurred when I watched:
1. neat, neat?, peat, peat. neat, neat, peat, peat
2. neat, neat, peat, peat. neat, neat, peat, peat
Note "neat?" is where he says people hear "meat." I /did/ think I
heard meat, but it sounded too nasalised, and I was very very confused
by the fact the lips didn't match perfectly what I was hearing. It
was like it was out of synch or something. At first I figured I heard
him wrong, began comparing what I'd seen to his voice as I watched the
next word come forth, couldn't figure out why the sound was off so
badly that it didn't match the sound correctly, and ultimately
concluded that he'd said "neat." I based this on context, because he
never said he was going to say "meat" but /had/ mentioned the word
"neat" and repeated it later on.
After I got myself all confused, I found myself reading below as I
listened to and half-watched the second part, and realized he /had/
said "neat" and that he was superimposing his speech on top of an
original recording of "neat, peat, neat, peat."
So: In short, I /did/ do what he said most people do, but due to the
synchronization problem, I wasn't 100% certain I heard him correctly.
Then I pulled a CAPD compensation and found "neat" was the only
obvious word he could have used in that strange context, so I fixed
what I heard with what I thought I should have heard.
If he /had/ said "meat" with the same synchronization issue, I likely
would have gotten that wrong, especially after I'd heard the whole
thing.
~nv
20100116
Dream Last Night
and reminiscing. Suddenly I hugged her, very glad to see her again,
and she said something about always having been there and not going
anywhere. I said, "I miss the past, not some of the things in it." I
woke up, very much desiring to remember that line, and found that I'd
been crying, truly happy to have seen her so vividly again and sad
that it wasn't real. WTF? I kept repeating that line over and over
as I fell back to sleep, though, and... there it is. So succinct...
20100104
Full Circle Writing
Today it was inspired by this site, which speaks of handwriting: http://www.hopechestlegacy.com/index.php?page=writing-desks
It has just dawned on me how history often repeats itself, and how
things often come full-circle. Is this beginning to occur with
literacy in some places? Doing much genealogical research as of late,
I am quite familiar with the concept that last names were often
misspelled or misread during censuses, and how many folks were so
illiterate they scarcely could write their own names.
So is this how it is to be, then? A good majority of the populace
able to write well, but a tiny percentage in comparison able to write
properly? Shall we have scribes again?
I hope not.
~nv