wedding photos

Every now and then, because someone has a nice camera and only posts decent to nice photos on their websites, maybe even gotten published in a few magazines, people have the misconception that such folks are able and willing to take photos of just about anything.  Like weddings.

I recently became aware of a couple who falls into this category.  They were approached by a future wife to shoot a wedding coming up in a few weeks.  They carefully declined and, after a few back and forths, it seemed the thing was settled.  The future husband, who is family, then stated that the couple was needed to do the photos and pretty much, that's that.  The couple, who were originally invited to the wedding, are now captive photographers who can't enjoy it.  Of course, this was muted by "it'll be laid back, no worries."  Taking photos of someone's wedding is not laid-back.  Especially when you care about the couple getting married.

Obviously this did not settle well, but the newly-appointed photographers said fine, I mean, what are they supposed to do?  It's family, it's just a few photos in the grand scheme of things, right?

For anyone out there who'd like to put their beloved "guests" in the same position, please consider the feelings of said "guests."  Photography is an art mixed with skill.  It is also very dependent on lighting and experience.  Even people who routinely photograph people have trouble with weddings because they are a once-in-a-lifetime event.  The photographer will be intruding into others' spaces, they will be swapping equipment to get the best shot they can, they are limited to whatever equipment they have, and there will be constant worry about conditions such as rain, lighting, clouds, etc.  This is not a light-hearted request.  It is a nightmare.  The "laid-back" approach is anything but:  The photographer formerly known as guest is no longer a guest, but a ball of worry rather than someone who gets to enjoy a wedding.

A couple of our friends had insisted we take photos of their wedding.  I firmly told them no.  We would of course /take/ photos if they permitted it, but they could not and would not expect us to do the entire thing.  Our photos came out great, of course - the weather was exceptionally beautiful - but they never really "got" that we were not "it" and kept insisting we do additional stuff.  I happened to be "in" the wedding party, as well, and up until the day of the wedding, they didn't seem to understand that if you're in the wedding party, you are not going to be taking pictures.  I did, however, have to run around taking photos before and after, however, and Dale had to take photos of the whole event.  He was a wreck, I was a wreck, but we managed to enjoy ourselves somehow.  It's not an experience I'd like to repeat, though.  So I feel for the couple I've described.

Dale and I took photos of our own wedding via timer.  Unfortunately for us, it was very cloudy that day and while we're glad to have these photos, frankly, they came out like crap.  The best thing they did was capture the moment.  They are nothing I display, even if Dale does.  I do look back at them to remember our day.  That's all they do for me, though.  I had the presence of mind, thankfully, to insist on additional photos in the house where the flash would be effective and posing would work.  These came out nicely.  The long and short of it is:  I've seen both ends of this massacre.

For something that is supposed to now be based on love, I don't see why weddings are made to be so stressful for anyone other than hired help.  Dale and I knew we didn't care for much planning, so we set the date six months later and got our shit worked out well in advance, involving as few people as we thought we could get away with.  We didn't want the expense of a wedding, we didn't want people staring at us, and we didn't want to put anyone out.  The two people we did invite were witnesses we apparently didn't even need.  We're glad they were there and had said yes to hiking up the mountain, but if we'd known we didn't need witnesses, we probably wouldn't even have asked them.

I've read sites like this one that indicate a couple is being cheap by not hiring a photographer.  They give good reasons as to why a professional is a good idea.  They tell it from the side of "the budding photographer wants to take photos, please don't let them."  They leave out the idea that someone asks them to take photos because they can't afford a professional photographer.  Sorry, but I don't place such high importance on weddings that you should afford anything.  If something is important to you, save for it.  This American Dream thing where you should either be in debt or get something for nothing is really getting old.  Why do people have to have everything now?  Why can't people wait anymore?

It just seems to me that if you're going to invite someone to a wedding, you want them there because you care for them in some way, and they want to be there to be supportive.  Stressing someone out doesn't seem like a spot to put someone in that wants to be supportive.

But then, it's just a few photos, right?  And what do you say, no?  Saying no means you can't enjoy the wedding, either, because everyone will despise you for being rude on the couple's big day.  It shouldn't ever have come up, if you ask me.

Personally, I'm looking forward to the day I get to attend a wedding for people I care about where I get to attend the wedding.  I hope that photographer couple gets this blessing someday, too.

~nv

mac vs pc vs linux

Yes, here we go.  I wasn't sure if I could actually restore completely to a fresh hard drive from Time Machine, so I looked it up.  I ended up on a site and decided to scroll down to read user comments, see if there were any tips.  There were, but also the usual flame wars.

I've heard the three major sides to the story.  I've experienced much of it, too.  Note that I'm aware that "macs" should really be "OS X" and "PCs" should really be "Windows."  I am also aware that Linux has more flavors than Ben & Jerry's.  I only use the usual terminology because it's so common.

General Opinion #1:  Macs are easier to use than PCs, are easier to back up, and don't get viruses/are less likely to get viruses.

General Opinion #2:  Mac users spend a lot of money to be told what to do and how they're gonna do it.  They don't know anything about computers.  You can get a brand new PC for way less than the cost of a new mac and it'll perform better and isn't limited by compatibility.

General Opinion #3:  Both PC and Mac users are idiots and Linux is the only real OS out there.

I am so sick of this crap.  Here is what I think about it all.

1.  Easier?  No.  It really comes down to personal preference and how you tend to work/play.  Personally, I like Time Machine better than Acronis, Ghost, BESR, and Mozy, and it comes with all macs out of the box.  I didn't have to read twenty screenfuls of information to get it going or to restore from it.  Note /I/ didn't have to.  It may be harder for someone else to use.  Oh, and Macs DO get malware.  Mine did just yesterday, which is why I was double-checking what I thought Time Machine could do.

2.  It depends on what you intend to use something for and what you're comparing.  I think the laptop line is generally comparable price-wise and so are the all-in-ones.  I could never justify buying a mac pro... If I go with a nonportable computer, I'm building!!  However, when I bought my macbook pro, I found exactly what I wanted and then compared prices with similar laptops on the Windows side.  The pricing was similar.  I wanted iPhoto, GarageBand, iWeb, Time Machine, MS Office [for Windows], Windows 7, and to play with Linux and a few dumb games from time to time that only run in Windows.  I also intended to surf the net.  I opted to drop an extra grand into my new macbook to turn it into my dream computer... I maxed out the RAM.  I replaced the original hard drive with a 240GB SSD and the optical with a 750GB hybrid.  Then I bought Windows 7 Home and a copy of Fusion, downloaded my favourite Linux flavours, and I was off to the races.  Plus, now I have an external optical drive because I bought a kit to shove the macbook's optical drive into, which turned it into a USB connected drive.  It works with any computer that has USB.  I could have bought a windows laptop for the same price and that would have gotten me the one thing I'm lacking on this one:  Major gaming.  But, I am not a major gamer, I like building boxes, and I like having spare computers in case my primary is otherwise occupied.  So that gave me an excuse to have a cheapish gaming rig.  With a few used parts, I built a mid level rig for a few hundred less than my macbook.  And all I use it for is gaming, surfing, and... yeah, that's it.  By the way, I don't see how Apple told me to do anything I didn't want to.  They shoved a slow little drive in an otherwise beautifully sculpted work of art, and I tore it and the optical drive out to make things nicer for me.  I can run seven virtual machines simultaneously while using every native application plus photoshop elements and a few other odds and ends and some of the clunkier VMs simply slow down a bit.  Apple didn't tell me what to do at all.  And I have everything I wanted.  Except the gaming piece, but only if you want to be a doofus about it.

3. I've used several flavours of Linux but it's simply not my thing.  I grew up with DOS and Windows.  I shifted over to Mac at home but still use Windows a LOT - both at work and at home.  I still play around with Linux from time to time and it's gotten some reallllllly sweet distros now... but I just can't really appreciate the time investment required because I have less and less time to invest.  I particularly like Ubuntu because - get this - it reminds me of OS X and actually works on most platforms I've shoved it on, unlike several others I tried in the past.  I also like Knoppix and other bootable versions and keep a Knoppix VM around that does exactly that.  Why?  Sometimes it's nice to surf the web without worrying about getting hit with something.  Yeah, should have been doing that yesterday morning...  Oh, and why are mac and pc users automatically idiots?  I don't know, probably because I'm an idiot for not ONLY using Linux.  Darwin is technically a 'nix, but it doesn't count because it hides behind a mac.  I think people who say such things have issues with the logic centers in their brains.  Which is ironic considering they're smarter than us mac and pc weenies.

Computers are like religions.  Every side seems to think theirs is better when in reality they're all just a bit different.  Why are they different?  Because we are.

Rant over.  I gotta go check a backup.  ;)

~w

Regroup

Long, but good, day full of family visiting.

Now I'm regrouping in my den by revisiting a few of my old ways:  Organizing music on a PC, planning how to best back things up (on my turf, none of this cloud BS), ripping CDs whose music I seem to have lost on the computers, and listening to music being piped from Winamp to my little stereo with the awesome bookshelf speakers.  I love the old Sony sound.  OMG.

I can feel the energy pouring back into me.

I'm also labelling stuff.  I love labelling stuff...

~nv

social cues

Admittedly, I've never been good with social cues and other things.  One thing I pride myself on, though, is managing to stay in touch with friends on at least some level.  It's really hard to do.  The more people I've become friends with, the harder this gets.  Working a ways from home has also taken its toll on my social life, although admittedly, less so... I generally like to come home after work and simply enjoy Dale's company or get working on a computer or site, play with critters, whatever.  But... it still takes its toll.  Because I have less time at home during the week, it makes me want to stay home on the weekend and appreciate all I have.  On top of that, I enjoy visiting with a group of friends once per week to play D&D.  This is awesome because it combines D&D with multiple people at once, getting in multiple visits even if they're hardly noticeable due to the gameplay.  At least there's that connection, though.  So, that leaves one whole day to myself to do whatever the mood strikes me to do.

Most of the time people understand that life is crazy, because they're just as busy as I am.  Sometimes you stumble across people that really don't understand.  Then there are the introverted friends who really understand that part of the reason my life feels so crazy is because I am trying to maintain friendships while forever being an introvert t heart.  These folks understand when I say I need time to myself or suggest alternative ways to stay in touch.  They don't get upset, they don't get mad, they don't assume the worst.  They simply... understand.  And they don't harass me about it for years and years and years or tell me I'm a bad friend or have problems or insist there must be something wrong if I don't want to leave the house to recharge.

I think each of us has both extroversion and introversion in us that alternates.  This month I'm looking at a new sleeping routine (the time change always messes me up no matter who well I've prepared for it).  I'm looking at a change in schedule to accommodate travel plans for work.  I'm looking at this mixed together with the time change, and so because I already have to get on the road early to get to the flight on time, I am now doing this an extra hour early.

Most people do not get the time change thing.  It's a very real, serious, difficult problem for me that I've fought with since I was in gradeschool.  It's gotten easier, but not resolved.  I don't _know_ why my circadium rhythms are so established, but they are difficult little beasties to force into submission.  The time change throws my whole being out of whack for anywhere from a few days to a few weeks.  I get snippy, bitchy, tired, grumpy, depressed.  It's not fun.  And people simply pooh pooh it like I'm a whiny bitchy ass.  Fuck them, I say.  Fuck them.

The travel plans I have going on entail lots of listening.  That's another difficulty for me.  CAPD makes it damned near impossible to hear things right anyway, no matter how fast I figure things out.  But now put me into the worst possible scene:  a crowd.  For hours.  For days.  Then add parties after each day.  So much audio stimulation it's beyond my comprehension to even entertain.  This is what I've been looking forward to.  That, and hopefully some warmth, good food, and a nice shower stall.  And, if I'm not preoccupied, I might actually realize that I'm with good company during the quieter moments.

At work, everyone's got some form of plague.  Coughing, sneezing, sniffling, aches, headaches, hoarseness, stomach upset... it's all over the place.  It's so bad right now that even my boss and his boss and another of the big bosses - none of whom generally take sick days - were out this week.  I have found that I often catch the "Plague" at the tail end of the rounds of illness.  So... two weeks before I have to fly out for a week, and I'm surrounded by plague.

On top of that, my immunity is trying to fail me despite all of my precautions because it's nearing the time of the month when I have to get all drugged up or pass out in pain.  That seems to pull any remaining strength out of me and if I'm around germs, I almost always get /something/ within days of that fun.

Oh yeah, and I was out a few weeks ago due to a kidney stone.  Whups.  That wasn't much of anything, though... took three days to pass the stone but it surprisingly only hurt until I got meds in me.  They actually took care of it.

I have been pumping myself up on as much sleep as I can manage, vitamins, extra water, taking some time off to just sit around the house and vegetate and catch up with a few friends that I hadn't gotten to see in over six months, and stopping stresses before they start wherever possible.  That meant cancelling a second D&D session that was threatening to eat up my only real day off.

I don't have the option of not driving home from work at night until the sun is up a bit longer and longer every day.  Then it's not an option to drive home the light - but I'm ok with that part.  Night time driving is dangerous to me, and there's nothing I can do about it right now except look for another job closer to home.  I like my job.  The headaches of night driving have stopped with the extra vitamins, but the blindness at certain angles and the annoyance of the bright streaming lights has not.  It is what it is.  If I have to stop cold at 50mph, I do it, in case I've missed seeing something run out in front of me.

I don't know how to get around that.  The eye doctor had nothing to tell me other than "People with really clear eyes like yours do seem to have this problem."  !

So basically, I've established a routine, have accepted some difficult things, and am managing to remain somewhat stress-free despite it all.

Until tonight.  I won't get into it online, but... suffice it to say that words were spoken between a couple of friends that will never be taken back by other side.  Each side likely thinks they're right, too.  Regardless of who said what when or why, right now was a particularly shitty time for it to have occurred given everything else I've gotten myself into.

Social cues.  I don't understand them.  They make my life miserable at times.  And sometimes, I am not even convinced I'm the one with the problem understanding them.  Sometimes I think it's just because I'm the one who is misunderstood and not accepted for who I really am.

And that kinda sucks.

~nv

Perverts!

http://www.timesargus.com/article/20150301/THISJUSTIN/703019937

They just want to see used feminine products, old underwear full of skidmarks, and cat turds!  What pervs!

java STILL sucks

Emergency?  Oh, wait two minutes while I install a different version of java so I can access that...

Seriously, this is what's gonna happen some day.

huh.

Like my mother, I've been told I'm smart pretty darned near most of my life.  It took me a long time to realize that intelligence is the root cause of much of my confusion about how people talk to me and how they act.  Even when I knew it, I didn't understand how to get around it.  I was who I was, and I wasn't ashamed of people who were not me because I didn't fully comprehend that the attributes I thought should be universal simply were not. I assumed that some people were simply assholes.  As it turns out, sometimes they are... and other times, it's because they don't know better or because they feel threatened.

Now that I've finally begun to slow down and find things that I must do that I don't have a natural affinity toward, I'm starting to understand where so many people were coming from.  And, having friends who are smarter than I am - or at least, who have abilities that I want and do not possess - has given me the perspective of feeling helplessly stupid.  Not stupid as in "why did I not realize that before" but stupid as in I know, there is absolutely no energy in my soul for me to even remotely comprehend how to ever grasp what they so easily grasp.  At first this was a failure on my part.  Now, I understand, perhaps necessarily, that it is not failure and that the sooner I acknowledge my limitations, the faster I can stop feeling so frustrated and instead plod slowly forth until I succeed or find a way around the obstacle in my path.

It is both remarkably sobering and amazingly inspiring to be in this situation.  I am both wisened by experience and challenged by continuous need to learn.

Sometimes part of me wants to be more like Mum and simply give up for the sake of certain principles or out of sheer mental exhaustion, but I have no idea how to do that.  The other part of me goes back and forth between wanting to maintain my lifestyle and wanting to pursue my childhood passions that are just now becoming realized and placed before me.

As my life has always been, I am forever caught in a state of dichotomy... both wanting and not wanting, being social and unsocial at the same time, and feeling both passionate and exhausted at the same time.

~nv

kidney stone, and... wow.

I learned today why I used to get teased for being a "camel" as a kid.  I.e., I didn't have to use the bathroom for 8+ hours at a time, so my mom called me a "camel" and would tease me about it.  (Normal people should be going 4-5 hours supposedly.  I go more frequently now (every 2-3 hours) because I drink much more than I used to, so I won't get kidney stones.  That didn't work out too well for me this time but I digress.)

Anywho, I got teased because mom, too, was a camel.  Unlike me, though, she wasn't allowed to have more than a small glass of milk a day and water only if her mother gave it to her, because she couldn't say "water" as a kid and somehow got it in her head that she wasn't allowed it unless mommy-dearest gave it to her... even when she was old enough to go get it herself.

This came about because I wrote to say I had a kidney stone and outlined all the measures I was taking today to clear it up, and she said "poor you guess it didn't pay to be a camel as a kid" so, knowing she'd had stones, too, said, "I didn't know you were also a camel as a kid!" thinking I was humourously pointing out how stupid that was.  At which point I got the whole story.  She made it sound like I was not drinking enough as a kid on purpose, which is ticking me off, but... at least I have understanding as to why she teased me for it.  She was probably reminded of the abuse and maybe on some level wondered if she was causing me to not drink enough fluid.  I don't think that was the case, but... who the hell knows.

Along that note, I'm glad I didn't have kids.  I wouldn't want to be saddled with always wondering how badly I was warping them based on my own upbringing.  Yipes.

Incidentally, one of my findings today was that Aleve seems to alleviate (hah) most of the pain from a kidney stone.  I managed to keep the pill down long enough for it to take effect, surprisingly... and man, does it do wonders.  I did take one as soon as I felt the tell-tale, excruciating pain start up, though... maybe that's why it stayed down?  I didn't believe it would help because I had aleady begun feeling nauseous (how fast that happens!) but... it worked very well indeed.

Hm.  Or maybe she's mad that they didn't have Aleve back when she was getting kidney stones and feels like taking it out on me for not suffering as much as she did.  I just thought of that.  I never truly know what's going in that head of hers.  All I know is, writing this is helping me not be so mad.  Plus I'm finally eating for the first time today so that's helping to even out my mood.  8oz of water every 20 minutes, and peeing the same, does weird things to my sense of being.  I've slowed up a bit on the water intake to counteract that effect while I refuel (I want to get as much work done as I can while the Aleve is still working) but will resume once lunch is over.  I am currently enjoying a nice cup of tea (which I steered away from while I went for water instead) and an egg on a bed of greens with two slices of potato bread toast complete with orange marmalade.  I am thoroughly enjoying it, because I know that without the Aleve, I'd simply be throwing up right now and I wouldn't be thinking about food whatsoever.  So, I know this is a real treat.  And, hopefully, it'll be enough to get me through another four hours of work so I can relax the rest of the weekend and not have to make up time.

Aight, speaking of which, back to it... and... just had a slight telltale ache telling me the stone has yet to pass.  How can one tiny little thing cause so much consternation?!  I'm not sure if perhaps I should take another Aleve or not while I still can... I keep hoping the thing will just pass... I hate taking medicine for pain because then I don't always know when it stops truly hurting... okay, back to work.  I'll think about it in another couple hours if the pain starts coming back... if it works that quickly, hopefully I can catch it in time...

Killer Kidneys,

~nv

POEM: MIGRATION

MIGRATION

2014122651 - c2014 wlc

Prison cell, so dank and dark

A cage around a dampened lark

Morning comes and with it, light

But her beak is tied up tight

The day wears on until the night

Bringing with it newfound fright

Until the trembling of the lark

Ruffles feathers in the dark

The wind howls lonely as a wolf

Coming close, a clomping hoof

A snort, a scrape, a heavy breath

The lark assumes a certain death

But winter sometimes likes to jest

Blowing cold past heaving chest

Outside, the stamping of a hoof

Go now, go now, howls the wolf

Feathers stretched by unseen hands

Bars are shrunken into strands

Suddenly the wings are flying

Over mountains, death defying

To the lark the streams are smiling

Tears of joy is what they're crying

Clouds are wispy coloured strands

As she lands in outstretched hands

How blessed am I to see her alive

How I watched her body writhe

Painful ooze of something sanious

Now it's bursting light and radiance

In song described as happiness

Your joy is percutaneous

And now the happy makes her writhe

How blessed is she to be alive

Thankfulness

Too often I find myself complaining about... well, mostly, my perceptions about myself, to be honest.  Life itself is not being all that bad to me.  In fact, it's being downright /nice/ to me.  I simply don't always recognize that and complain about how it's not better in some way...

Anywho, I digress.  I am thankful right now that my mother introduced me to Gordon Lightfoot's music.  It's pretty good stuff.  I'm thankful, too, for my job... which I felt stupid at for a long time (and often still do) but this is /exactly/ what I've always /wanted/ to do... learn.  Sometimes I'm too freakin' tired to learn anymore, but when I'm not, it's really interesting to actually figure things out again.

Also thankful as usual for Dale, the cats, our house, and our transportation, and our health... my foot is far better than it once was, and we're aging... things are going to go downhill in time.  I'm thankful they haven't gotten overly bad yet and that we're not crippled or the like.  Egads, things could be so horrible for us, and they're not.

Just thought I'd blurb that.

~me

old antiquation

A guy at work often talks about his first handful of computing devices.  His history precedes mine by at least several years, but I at least recognise much of what he talks about.

A younger guy at work then laughs at us and in particular likes to poke fun at my "computer museum."  He rightfully guessed that I have a number of older computing devices at home that, while aren't worth anything at all, are worth volumes to me for their personal value.  I also revel in the fact that I have a punch card from some long-forgotten something, even though I never actually got to use punch cards nor seen a machine that uses them.  (The older guy at work has.  I'm not that jealous, though.  Those things were a pain in the petoobies.)

How did I broach this subject, anyway?  Well, this morning I was eating breakfast and thinking about how I seldom ever write anymore.  That reminded me that there are several letters I've written in the last year that were on my 1955 Underwood typewriter, or in ink scrawled onto today's version of parchment paper by a metal-nibbed dipping pen.  Then I remembered that much of my writing has been done on an IBM ThinkPad 755CD.  Why?  Well, first, it was my first laptop back in November of 2000.  I bought it (then) for $289 (or was it 389?).  It was obviously used, and it was about five years old.  It had Windows 98 first edition on it, but it was made for 95 and it wouldn't take 98se.  I remember that because I tried to put 98se on it after wiping out 98 and not having the disc... the guy never gave me that.  Amazing little laptop, though, for its time.  You could swap out the floppy drive with the CDROM drive.  It would only connect to the internet via a modem, however, which soon died on me - it was one of those single-slot pcmcia cards.  For whatever reason, the onboard modem never worked for me.  I eventually replaced the card with a different card so I could hook it up to my later network.  No idea what happened to that card.

The other reason I used this laptop for writing - even after I had other computers kicking around - is simple.  The keyboard.  I have always loved the feel of that keyboard.  There is something rewarding about the way the keys almost "click" beneath my fingertips.  They feel heavy, not membranous, which is awesome for a laptop keyboard since those ARE membranous.  It wasn't quite mechanical, but darned close in many regards.  I remember at the time not being sure I liked it because it wasn't like the mechanical keyboards or the deeper ones I'd gotten used to.  But it caught on quickly and I found I was very efficient on that thing.

I get all misty-eyed when I think about the relics in that "computer museum" of mine.  Do they all get used?  Not often.  I turn them on now and then just to keep their batteries alive and to wake up their antiquated, cold mainboards and make sure they still work.

The ThinkPad, though, I do occasionally sit down and fingerblab at.  The funny thing is that the only way for me to currently get stuff off it is to use a floppy disk for storage, and then shove the disk into a USB floppy drive (also IBM branded) and plug that into my main computer.  My main computer has an SSD and a hybrid drive, boots in under 17 seconds, and can run seven virtual machines on top of its own native OS - all at once.  It has 8 GB of RAM and runs on an i7 quadcore processor at 2GHz.  By current standards, probably about middle of the road to almost defunct, I'm sure, but it kicks a** even by today's standards unless you're a gamer or snobby enthusiast.  The casual user needs far less.  The ThinkPad, by contrast, was a single-core Intel 486 DX4 running at 100MHz and I think it has 16MB of onboard RAM plus a 4MB card plugged into an expansion slot that gives it a total of 20MB.  I remember it was an oddball number even at the time.  The battery was still Nickel Metal Hybrid and lasted about an hour even when it was new.  It quickly wasn't.  I've replaced the internal battery once in the last fourteen years, which cost me about a fourth of what I paid for the laptop.  But it still lives.  Oh, and the screen resolution is perfect for typing on a white-on-black DOS screen:  640x480.  Kids, don't try that at home.  Compare that to the high definition screens of today.  What do they call them again?  1080p and higher?  Who needs that, anyway?

Yes, I would gladly pull out my ThinkPad, and its old eccentricities, any day for a writing session.  And then slowly transfer all my blabbings to my main for longterm storage.  After all, floppies are known for their tendency to fail...

~nv

*love*

I don't even know how it's possible to love someone so much.  Yet, it is.

Tamazon

Okay, I'm not proud of this, but... I think I just bought tea on Amazon.  /sigh

cat's.. I don't know what, and oh yeah car accident

Gizmo just carried a bag of techie stuff (cables, cd's, etc) down the stairs and is now sitting on it.

WTF

In other news, I had a wee fender bender last weekend and I go back and forth between being proud of my reaction to it and then having sudden reactions to things that remind me of it.  Unfamiliar road, didn't know there was a hairpin turn there... the signage that was there, well, I thought all the curves were like in the sign - nothing at all.  Thank goodness the guardrail with nothing behind it spooked me, or I'd have kept going 35, which was already 5 below the speed limit.  I've done turns like that at 35 or even 40 before but I knew they were coming and they were when my tires were newer and could handle it better.  I think the major factor this time was being unprepared for it, though... isn't that why people usually have accidents?  lol.

So anyway, I go up around a couple curves after the sign and no biggie, see the guardrail and think, meh, I'll slow down a bit more, just to be safe... and as I go into the curve it occurs to me that the curve doesn't seem to have an end... belatedly, I realize it's one of those hairpins.  At that point I knew my car could handle such a thing but I knew the tires were no longer as grabby as they used to be, and wished I had been going even slower.  So, I simply hung onto the wheel and hoped for the best, trying not to take it too tightly... but running out of room of course.  I didn't brake, I knew better than that at that point, being in it already... glad I was forewarned about that mistake or who knows what might have happened.

As luck would have it, I didn't die.  But I did hear a horribly loud screeching sound and watched as the guard rail between me and the dropoff got closer, all the while maintaining what I was doing and not letting anything move for fear of making it worse.  At the last minute I felt my hands turn the wheel slightly toward the skid and for a split second I thought I'd get my control back.  But by then it was too late and I hit the rail, front right corner first.  I don't remember the impact or the sound it made.  I do remember that it hit and that the car's back end swung around to match.  Then the right rear corner hit.  I remember that sequence even though I don't remember the actual impact sensation, although the more I think about it the more I have the impression of hearing something and feeling a sliding or scraping with thoughts of "so this is what it's like to hit a guard rail, always wondered that."

As the front end bounced left and I realized I'd regained traction somewhat, I steered toward the road and realized there was a ditch in front of me.  This was almost a blur:  I felt like I flew over the end of the ditch and onto the road.  It was like a miniature turbo boost out of Knight Rider.  But then I felt the back right tire angle the car backward.  I was now angled in the ditch, still moving, like the front left tire was hanging onto the road or whatever was actually under it, and the opposite corner was dragging itself through the ditch.  At that point I distinctly remember thinking, in words:  "I didn't die!  Now I'm not having my pride hurt in this damned ditch!"  I gunned it (I was in second gear so who knows how that even helped) and I bounced three times at that angle.  Next thing I knew, I was on the road, wobbled in the back for a moment, and then kept going.

I remember passing two cyclists a curve or two later - I was driving very slowly now, both because I realized I had no idea what lay ahead and because I was shaken up, plus I wasn't sure what damage had been done to the car - and one turned to look at me.  I gave them both as wide a berth as I could, which is actually pretty normal, but I was thinking how they must be afraid of me if they heard any of that.  I'm sure the sound carried through the gore.  I mentally apologized to them for causing any concern and was soon at the top.

I was probably in a state of shock.  I was pretty numb but my thoughts continued and my eyes were watchful, which is good, because I just kept going.  I had the presence of mind to see the downside of the hill and check my brakes.  I took note of the fact the car wasn't shimmying, that the tires felt ok - nothing flat - and that I had two warning lights on... hill assist and traction control.  No engine lights.  The only thing that told me something was damaged was the sensation that I was dragging a bumper or fender or something.  It didn't sound serious, although in hindsight I probably should have stopped to make sure it wasn't falling off... but all I could think about was getting to safety.  To me, safety was another half-hour away, out of the unknown area I was in.  Not on the side of a gap that I had almost killed myself on.

Turns out it was the right front fender liner scraping the tire.  I discovered this when I arrived at my destination a half-hour later, parked, and finally dared to look.

Damage estimates are less than I'd expected and frankly, the damage isn't nearly as severe as I'd expected, either.  For the next two days I went through bouts of "I didn't die" immediately followed by "the ditch was kind of fun."

Then I was at work, talked to the insurance adjuster, and he told me a story of his own.  I got off the phone, and didn't think much of it.  My colleagues were out somewheres when out of the blue I began to sob.  I felt it crashing down on me so I grabbed some tissues and hid in the server room.  I sobbed uncontrollably for several minutes but eventually regained my composure, blew my nose, and ventured back out.  I thought that would be the end of it, but it hasn't been.  About once or twice a day, something will trigger it.

The other night my bowl of ice cream slipped.  I kept it from spilling, but the fact I lost hold of it sent me over the edge.  My heart began to race and I saw the guard rail all over again, heard the screeching.  I cried for about a half hour.

For whatever reason, when these outbursts occur, I want to be in my car, and badly.  I feel like it's my safety zone.  Stupid, right?  The same car I was in at the time, and I want to be in it?  You'd think I'd want to avoid it!  But I want to sit in it, touch it, make sure it's ok, be surrounded by it, hear its engine rumbling, change gears.  I don't want to drive around any curves, especially to my left, but I know that'll pass eventually.  I just feel like I /need/ to drive my car again.  But, I was smart and deposited it at the body shop as soon as I could to avoid damaging it any further or taking unnecessary risks in case there was something wrong I didn't know about.

A friend pointed me toward PTSD.  I do have some of the symptoms of this, but given it's been just under a week, I'm guessing these episodes will lessen and eventually fade.  I didn't die, I wasn't even injured... and in fact, I drove away.  The entire time, strangely, I knew I was safe and would be OK, even despite the grim realizations that something bad was about to happen and the thought I keep thinking over and over:  I didn't die!  But I still want my car back and left curves still make my stomach funky and my heart race a bit.  Scuffing cart tires at work set my heart off and I have to hold myself in check.  Slipping ice cream bowls.  I even got set off a little bit by tossing an egg carton at the recycle bin and seeing it slide around the corner edge before falling in.

Was the event life-changing?  Probably not in the grand scheme of things.  I will certainly be far more cautious on unknown roads in the future.  I always thought I was pretty cautious as it was, but it's possible I was less cautious simply because of what I drive, knowing how it usually handles so well.  I know and knew that the best handling car in the world can't take sharp corners just willy nilly, but with the curves beforehand, it didn't occur to me there'd be such a sharp corner so close by.  I guess another lesson is that if you don't know the road well, and you see a blind curve, assume it's a hairpin and slow the heck down even more.

But... I still want to drive that car.  When I dropped it off, it felt like my hands and feet had been severed.  It's an extension of my body now, and while I have been reacquainted with my old truck, it's not the same thing.  The truck is separate from me.  The car... well, let's put it this way.  I know it was the car that hit the guardrail, but while it was all happening, it was I who was hitting it, even though I felt no actual pain and knew the car was around me.  The car was me and I was it, getting through the worst and then limping away, proud to be resilient enough to do so after such a thing.  Only now do I feel bad that it's damaged, a separate thing from myself.  I want it back.  I want to know it's ok.  I want to feel safe in it again.

I didn't go over the cliff.  The guard rail held.  I didn't end up on my side in a ditch.  I wasn't injured.  The car will be repaired.  I'll get it back in due time.  It'll look fine and drive fine (although I am going to get new tires; I don't trust the current ones after skidding sideways on them).

But things could have gone horribly wrong up there, far worse than they did, at any point in that experience.  I think that's why there's a part of me that is absolutely petrified and reacting to anything that reminds it of what might have been.

That's just going to take some time to get over, I know.  I just hope I can keep it in check and only allow it to be totally nuts when I'm alone and able to hang over a sink while it pours out of my face.  I like running water, it's comforting, always has been when I was that deeply saddened by something... usually a pet's death.  I've always had this two-day delay before my emotions dare to surface over an event (save for death, that seems to come out pretty fast).  I've read about this... it seems to be a survival instinct.  Something bad happens, your mind has to deal with it first and keep you out of danger.  Then you can feel.  It's not a bad thing and probably has kept me safe many times.  It's probably what makes me (usually) a very good driver... someone cuts me off, and my body does what it needs to do, it doesn't simply react and veer off the road.  It probably kept me alive last weekend.

The emotions are tough.  I'm glad I'm having them, though.  They mean I survived.

~w

Winging it

So I get home today, look at the carpet, and start moving stuff off one corner of it.  Then I pull it back, grab a carpet knife, and start slicing and dicing.  The white paint that I expected to cover the entire floor... didn't.  Turns out there's actual hard wood under all the crud in quite a large area.  Not in horrid condition, either, although someone obviously knew they were going to carpet over it and didn't take care to avoid getting white paint everywhere.  We think this is because there's damage by the front door.  Possibly even a hole there, I dunno.  There was always a hump like someone carpeted over a welcome mat.  Turns out the hump is a piece of plywood with old kitchen tile (the original kitchen tile, mind you) tacked down on top of it.  Either they wanted that in front of the door, or something happened to the hardwood there and it's a makeshift cover.  Dale reminded me that there was water damage that required some reconstructive surgery at some point in the house's past, so perhaps it's related.  Regardless, we've decided to have the floor refinished so the rest of the carpet is gonna come out.  This might take the rest of the summer and fall but it'll happen.  The hardest part is moving all the crap out of the way.

On top of all that, we're not sure if we are going to repaint or not.  I'm telling Dale, if we want to do it, now is the easiest time.  Move all the stuff, paint, and then have the guy refinish the floors.  It won't get easier than that.  We wouldn't even use dropcloths.  The baseboard would be off, the walls would be bare, nothing in the way.  Now's the time to do it.  But it makes it feel much more daunting.  We just repainted the kitchen's back wall.  It was definitely some work we're not keen on doing again so soon.  So we may leave things as they are as far as that goes and just do it the long way over time.  Of course, doing all this as soon as we moved in would have been best.  I knew that going in and didn't care.  At the time.  LOL.  I look at it this way... instead of moving, we get something very different done in the house and it's like moving without as much back-breaking hassle.

Yesterday, a coworker called me at the office asking me to restore a bunch of user files from backup.  I said, "Sure, give me ten minutes."  I went into my backup files and... the user files were not there.  None of them.  When I first began working there, that entire directory wasn't being backed up.  I eventually noticed this and thought I'd fixed it. I could even swear I'd restored something to verify this.  Apparently my memory is worse than I thought it was.  I had to admit to my colleague that the user had lost two years of work.  Then something occurred to me.  "Give me a while," I told my colleague.  I went in and found our safety net.  /This/ backup is pretty much the backbone of the backbone, a last-chance of all last chances.  Not the easiest to restore from but if all else fails... well, you get the idea.  After some finagling (this was the first time I'd tried this), I got to where I could see the user's files, but I had to do some really fancy footwork to get them back to where they needed to be.  After almost three hours, I had resolved the issue by calling another colleague and he had this wonderful idea of using two virtual NICs on the same VM to transfer the files.  It worked beautifully.  In four hours' time, I went from being angry at myself for overlooking the original problem to being somewhat afraid of being fired for not doing my job properly to being ticked off at myself again to being hopeful and finally excited that I figured it out in the end (even if had help - it would have eventually occurred to me, but the help sped things up).  And, happy the user was happy.  I'm still fighting with our backups, which have been wonky anyway.  I swear I thrive on winging it, though.  Tonight I logged in and started a backup, which lagged as it has been for days now (UNACCEPTABLY FAILING IN THE PROCESS GAHHH), then in sheer desperation, I uninstalled the antivirus while the two fought.  I said, "Fuck you both, play nice," the antivirus wanted a reboot, I told it no, it killed off my backup and stuck its tongue out at me, and I swore some more as I watched three hours of painfully slow backup just disappear on me again.  Then, more determined than ever, I restarted the accursed backup despite not rebooting and now it's moving much faster - my goal.  So hopefully I get my backup tonight.  Damned computers.  Even virtual ones are frustrating.  Perhaps more so!

Meanwhile, my sd card slot has failed me completely and so has the usb headphones driver.  Or it's something in the usb hardware.  Either way, I'm really ticked off at macs right now because both items work fine on other computers.  Dammit.

But, I have a nice cup of tea, my backups are running nicely (for now), and I can wiggle my toes on cool hardwood floor, grungy though it may be at the moment.  Life is good.  Even if I have to threaten it with a carpet knife, an unwieldy uninstall, and a rather kludgy restoration at times.  :D

~w

POEM: Opening

OPENING

2014071201 - c 2014 wlc

Going out to meet some friends

I feel their faces, glowing smiles

Fully of happy sunlit ventures

Not whatever money buys

As the mem'ries cascade through

Time and space they do traverse

I feel Your touch so deep inside

And start to cry as we converse

There are no words, no imagery

Just a wordless touch of soul

In several seconds' time of talk

I've been shown my life is whole

I sit here driving, crying still

My heart alight with Love, Your Will

Words attempt to make their way

But are, as always, pale display

food essentials

I've often thought of food essentials for easy dinners and such.  I think my staples are the following.

~DRY~

Spices (marjoram, basil, thyme, rosemary, cumin, coriander, cayenne, curry, cajun)

Flour

Salt and pepper

Baking soda

Rice

Olive Oil

~FROZEN~

Crock pot chicken meat

Crock pot Soup stock

Peas, Peppers, Corn

~REFRIGERATED~

Butter

Milk

Heavy Cream (can also be frozen)

Mayonnaise

Lemon Juice

Shredded cheese

Eggs

~FRESH~

Onion

Garlic

Salad Greens

Celery

Carrots

Ginger

Potatoes

With the above, I can make chicken and rice in various incarnations - with or without hot spices, a bit of an indian flair or more cajun in nature, mexicanish, plainer, etc... with or without various veggies... put it on a plate or in a wrap or in a pita bread... Put some soup stock in for a rich and satisfying soup... Use soup stock as a base for freshly chopped veggies and cilantro and lemon juice with some noodles for a nice "Pho" type dish... Put chicken meat in between slices of bread with some mayo and greens... fried eggs... pan bread in many flavours... scones with fresh cream/whipped cream... green salad with any of the above in there that are desired... potato cream soup... the list goes on and on and on, things are interchangeable for variety, and most everything is pretty easy.

I think my favourite tools are the fry pan, a dutch oven with cover, holey spoon, sharp knife and/or Ulu, the crock pot, the mixer, and a whisk.  Oh, and the thing that opens stuck things.  Jar opener?  I think that's what that is.  And... tupperware-like things to store extra food in.  :)

~w

Usefulness

It never ceases to amaze me how moods can vary so... and they're all internal to oneself much of the time.

Much of the time at work, I feel stupid, useless, and unappreciated when I /do/ feel useful.  Much of the time in general, actually, I feel either that way or like I'm getting old and fat and don't look much forward to getting older and fatter.

Being a morning person, I usually have what my husband calls morning "bursts."  I.e., I awaken between 5:57am and 6:07am, barely remember to stretch my feet, jump out of bed with my mind racing, and wander around the house cleaning or cooking or whatever strikes my fancy.  He eventually gets up by 6:30 or 7 (8 or 9 on weekends) and comes downstairs with a look of death on his face.  "Grunt.  Argh.  Unh.  What the.  Did you have a burst?"  "Yup.  You want some breakfast?"

Then I get to work, all bubbly (still morrrrninnnnnng), and my colleagues look up in dismay.  "It's back."  "Oh God."  "Can you like, just, sit there and not be like that?"

I pull my spirit into my skin as best I can over the next fifteen minutes, about to explode with joy, and emanate sparks of tamped down energy from my chair for about an hour.

10am.  By now I'm somewhat normal... I begin dropping when everyone else's caffeine levels have risen enough to make them approachable.  However, don't give me detail work.  I'm still scatterbrained.

11am.  I am now stupid.  I can still function, but by now I've worn myself out by holding my energy at bay, and it has seeped into the carpet, through the floor, into the earth, and out the other side for some other unfortunate morning person to utilize.  I feel useless.  I feel unliked, like I don't fit in, and like my memory's shot.

2pm.  Now I'm simply exhausted and wondering why I'm in this profession.  What was I thinking?  Oh my God.  I'm going to die.  Where are my headphones?  I find them and turn them up as loud as I dare so I don't lose my focus for the umpteenth time.

3pm.  Holy crap is it 3pm already?  Why am I so tired all the time?  When are these people going to leave so I can be myself again?  Might as well just smack me with a brick.  I don't even know why I'm being paid to sit here being stupid.

4pm.  Most of the time, my colleagues leave about now.  Suddenly the silence turns into music, even if I don't put my headphones back on.  I bid my colleagues adieu as they almost run for the door and grin inside.  Now I tackle the detail/thinking work.  With a vengeance.

5:50pm.  Shit, really?  I was just getting started!!  I pack up and head home by 6:10.

Then I enjoy Carr.  Sometimes my mood by now has shifted into happy again.  Most of the time I enjoy the sound of Carr for a while as I drive, but then my memories surface and I miss my friends.  A lot.  In fact, I think about them often throughout the day sometimes without meaning to.  Usually when I feel put down or stupid, which is often.  Sometimes I still cry, although most of the time I can prevent that and only produce a deep aching inside with a bit of mist that is quickly subdued by revving the engine or something.  I try to think about what I want to do when I get home.  That sometimes helps, but often it doesn't.  I know I will have three hours to have dinner, check email, do whatever chores I need to do that were not done before, take care of critters, and then, most likely, I'll end up wasting time on the computer and making myself feel worse.

Occasionally, I find ways around this stupidity.  For instance, today, I ran across a report at work of closed tickets over the last 24 hours, 7 days, month, year, and all time.  I saw my name and did some comparisons to the people I think of as the workhorses.  I'm actually pretty even with them if you look at numbers.  First I tell myself, well, the numbers are warped because I have tickets I can close quickly.  Then I remember all the hours-long or even days-long tickets that I spend hours or days feeling stupid about only to have some "ah ha" moment where everything gels and the problem is resolved.  In fact, many of my tickets are like that.  It's the nature of what I do.  It involves a lot of problem solving and research and poking.

I got home in much better spirits, also having at least completed something (even if I'm pretty sure it won't turn out well the first round).  Then I saw that Dale was missing.  So was his car.  Okay... So I took care of the cat litter as fast as I could.  He's always doing stuff.  I was painstaking about it.  I even washed the floor beneath and around the pans with my favourite herbal solution.  Then I took the used litter out to the garbage bin.  I set about putting things away, sweeping, caring for critters, doing laundry and other chores.  He gets home and I ask what else he's going to do besides putting in the a/c and mowing the lawn.  "Trash and recycling," he says.  "I'll do those," I tell him.  "That would be nice but... what I really want is food when I'm done.  I'd really rather have that if you don't mind."  "You'll be mowing for an hour.  I'll have plenty of time to do both."

So I did.  By now I'm feeling pretty good, and have stopped feeling useless at least.  Dale comes in, sweaty and grassy, and sniffs the air with excitement.  He looks me straight in the eye and thanks me for everything by asking, "How do I deserve all this?"  I'm surprised.  "How do I deserve all you do?  You mow the lawn!"  Then as I wander into the living room to turn on the TV for the last hour of my day, my nose perks up and I realise that the wonderful scent in the air was my doing.  The smoothness of the floor was me.  The happily fed creatures?  Me again.  I got home, and in two hours, did all that.

I'm not stupid or useless.  I'm human, and I am apparently just as insecure as many people are.  The scary thing is that there are suffering people in the world and I'm still upset about leaving friends behind.  Moron.  ;)

~nv

Poem - Condestruction

CONDESTRUCTION

20140610 - c2013 wlc

Humidity sets in

A waterfall in air

Nebel echoes in my ears

Surrounding me with life

I feel it permeating my body

But my mind remains numb

The trees and pollen try coating the car

I miss them all

I round the curves with practiced boredom

Drawing with humidity

Feet still cold on the vehicle floor

Hands so dry upon the wheel

My heart stops for just a moment

I'm lost in time

A tear inches backward

How fast am I going?

When will I stop?

I think of perfection

Belatedly, I wonder, if this is the end

But practice makes perfect

And it wasn't too fast

I'm just another part

Of the winding old road

And suddenly

I'm waiting on a highway

Stopped dead cold

The winding road ceases to wind

As I sit there growing old

missing.

Sometimes, out of nowhere, I have very vivid images and impressions of people float into my consciousness.  Sometimes it's people who died, or moved, or changed jobs, or that I left behind when I moved or changed jobs.  Or simply people I've lost contact with.

This sometimes makes me smile, or perhaps even makes me glad I no longer AM in touch with them so closely.

Other times, I miss them, and I find myself immersed in the sensation of loss, be it wistful or deep, temporary or permanent.

I am lucky to have known people worth missing.