Thursday, March 20, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
blah blah blah
Haven't felt like I had much to blog about recently, despite things going on.
Flogging Molly concert was great. I've never been to the Tabernacle, and it's a hell of a place for a rock concert. (It got damaged in the tornado, by the way). Used to be a church, and it's painted on the inside- looks like some talented kids got in there while it was closed one night, did the place up, and when the owners came back in the morning they left it as it was. Funny seeing all those pipe organ bits behind a punk rock band.
I rode the Marta to get there, from Perimeter Mall. In all the times I've ever ridden it I've never been sure what gives it the bad rap. I use it to get to the airport when I fly, and mostly that's so early in the morning it's only business types. Different riding it at night, mostly because I like all the lights outside the window in the darkness. Easy to pretend you're flying through space. Family panicked a little when they found I was going alone. I just don't know any other fans of the band, and I wasn't going to miss the concert because of that; it's like waiting for someone else to see a movie in the theater and they can't ever make it until the thing is on DVD. I hate that. Anyway, Marta- well lit, police every where, lots of other concert goers to walk the block and a half from Peachtree Center Station which had an escalator so tall that on the way back down I had to sit on the steps to feel like I wasn't going to keel off into space. And it's got one of those lovely white-rectangular-tile walls against the escalator.
Hrm. What else?
I guess since I haven't got a call from the police I'm not being called as a witness so I can probably talk about this... I went to Steak and Shake Saturday night, and arrived just in time to see a customer rough up one of the employees in the parking lot. Over a bunch of nothing. But my long career in retail and waitstaffing made that no surprise. It's not like I don't get upset about things, but mostly they're "what's the meaning of life?" kind of things or some great injustice (personal or worldwide) not... Steak and Shake. And this guy was totally off the handle. Mind boggling.
That's the same day one of the customers copped a feel on me, too. Must have been a weird day.
I love SciFi. I love space operas, but most of the time I love them better as movies or tv shows. I'll try reading a book now and then and there's always something off about it that I don't like. I'm struggling to think if there's even one scifi book on my shelves. Possibly not. Well. There's one of those Padawan Obi-Wan and Master Qui-Gon adventures for little kids, but I'm partial to that team up. Anyway, I went to Borders last weekend to pick up my new Torchwood novels, only they didn't come in, and I'd braved the cold to get there, and Jamie was being really nice (he's one of the store's customers, and a fellow Torchwood/Doctor Who fan, and he works at Borders and said he'd hold my books for me) so I went to look for something else to use my coupons on since they were going bad the next day. And after all my years doing retail I pulled that thing that customers do sometimes that's completely unhelpful to employees.
Me: Hey, Jamie? There was this book on the New SciFi/Fantasy/Horror/Romance table about a month ago, and it's not there now.
Jamie: What was it?
Me: Uh. There was a girl space pilot? And a soldier guy?
Jamie: ...
Me: There was a space port on the front cover.
So, he's doing what he can, and I'm remembering one Christmas at Barnes and Noble where a lady came in, and asked what a book was that had a green cover and had been on a table over in one of the isles (those little end table looking things that move around) a year ago. (I actually found it for her, can you believe it? And the table wasn't even there when she came back to ask). This is when I run into Mark Brummel, another of Dr. No's customers, and actually one of my customers that I knew from Barnes and Noble, and it was actually kind of funny to see him because I'd told him I was going to be there, and he said he wouldn't that night.
(Maybe a month or two ago I was there, and this kid came up to me yelling a lot and asking if I was "That girl from the comic store?" and I said yes, and he yells for me to stay right there and then just runs off. If it was a cartoon something would have fallen on me, right after that. Turns out he's Mark's kid, and he went to go get his Dad. This is also the night I first saw Swordbird, which has to be the most insanely creative rediculous thing I've ever encountered. Charles, theoretically, how would a bird fight with a sword?) (The other funny thing is I've got a really bad memory, especially for people. And I hadn't seen Mark in about six or so years since Barnes and Noble when he came into Dr. No's and I remembered him, but he's also the only person I've ever met who had epilepcy, so that's probably why. Also, one of my coworkers almost beat him up)
So now it's a joke that when I see Mark in our store I tell him if I'm going to Borders. And he said he wasn't, but then he was there, and I told him about the book that I couldn't remember anything pertinent about, and met his wife. She was nice. None of that "how do you know my SO? why are you talking to them?" stuff. I hate when people get like that. Both of them are nice, and so are their kids.
I realize this book is never going to be found, unless I go on cobbcat.org, then onto Galileo, and from there to Novelist, which has got to be the best thing ever. You can search for books by plot on there, and I'm not happy about the fact I'm going home empty handed so I call one of my library coworkers who knows the ins and outs of the system and can get on Novelist for me. And while I'm on the phone I lean on the shelf, then turn to see what I'm leaning on.
And I'm not kidding you, I went over the shelf two or three times, the whole SciFi thing not facing the front doors because I recalled seeing the book that I was looking for on that shelf when I was at the store months ago and that meant I could half the alphabet in my search, and just as he's asking me what to put in Novelist, there's the freaking book I've been looking for. Go figure.
It's Crystal Soldier by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller. It's really good. Really, really good. One of the semi-main characters is a tree. It's really not, but M Jela Granthor's Guard (the real main character- seriously, that's his name) kinda treats the tree like it's a main character, and it grows on you (Cliff, make a joke here). Him and his pet tree. I like Jela and his tree almost as much as I like Damien Vryce and Gerald Tarrant as a team up. (They're CS Friedman characters, from the Coldfire trilogy). It's good. Nothing has really happened yet kinda. It probably has, but I'm liking the universe and the writing so much I'm not trying to figure out what's going on- Jela and the tree could spend the rest of the book walking around space ports and I'd probably enjoy it. It's too good to try and figure out, I guess.
And now, finally, Torchwood Episode 11 has finished, so I'm going to go watch it. After I spell check this. Yay.
Flogging Molly concert was great. I've never been to the Tabernacle, and it's a hell of a place for a rock concert. (It got damaged in the tornado, by the way). Used to be a church, and it's painted on the inside- looks like some talented kids got in there while it was closed one night, did the place up, and when the owners came back in the morning they left it as it was. Funny seeing all those pipe organ bits behind a punk rock band.
I rode the Marta to get there, from Perimeter Mall. In all the times I've ever ridden it I've never been sure what gives it the bad rap. I use it to get to the airport when I fly, and mostly that's so early in the morning it's only business types. Different riding it at night, mostly because I like all the lights outside the window in the darkness. Easy to pretend you're flying through space. Family panicked a little when they found I was going alone. I just don't know any other fans of the band, and I wasn't going to miss the concert because of that; it's like waiting for someone else to see a movie in the theater and they can't ever make it until the thing is on DVD. I hate that. Anyway, Marta- well lit, police every where, lots of other concert goers to walk the block and a half from Peachtree Center Station which had an escalator so tall that on the way back down I had to sit on the steps to feel like I wasn't going to keel off into space. And it's got one of those lovely white-rectangular-tile walls against the escalator.
Hrm. What else?
I guess since I haven't got a call from the police I'm not being called as a witness so I can probably talk about this... I went to Steak and Shake Saturday night, and arrived just in time to see a customer rough up one of the employees in the parking lot. Over a bunch of nothing. But my long career in retail and waitstaffing made that no surprise. It's not like I don't get upset about things, but mostly they're "what's the meaning of life?" kind of things or some great injustice (personal or worldwide) not... Steak and Shake. And this guy was totally off the handle. Mind boggling.
That's the same day one of the customers copped a feel on me, too. Must have been a weird day.
I love SciFi. I love space operas, but most of the time I love them better as movies or tv shows. I'll try reading a book now and then and there's always something off about it that I don't like. I'm struggling to think if there's even one scifi book on my shelves. Possibly not. Well. There's one of those Padawan Obi-Wan and Master Qui-Gon adventures for little kids, but I'm partial to that team up. Anyway, I went to Borders last weekend to pick up my new Torchwood novels, only they didn't come in, and I'd braved the cold to get there, and Jamie was being really nice (he's one of the store's customers, and a fellow Torchwood/Doctor Who fan, and he works at Borders and said he'd hold my books for me) so I went to look for something else to use my coupons on since they were going bad the next day. And after all my years doing retail I pulled that thing that customers do sometimes that's completely unhelpful to employees.
Me: Hey, Jamie? There was this book on the New SciFi/Fantasy/Horror/Romance table about a month ago, and it's not there now.
Jamie: What was it?
Me: Uh. There was a girl space pilot? And a soldier guy?
Jamie: ...
Me: There was a space port on the front cover.
So, he's doing what he can, and I'm remembering one Christmas at Barnes and Noble where a lady came in, and asked what a book was that had a green cover and had been on a table over in one of the isles (those little end table looking things that move around) a year ago. (I actually found it for her, can you believe it? And the table wasn't even there when she came back to ask). This is when I run into Mark Brummel, another of Dr. No's customers, and actually one of my customers that I knew from Barnes and Noble, and it was actually kind of funny to see him because I'd told him I was going to be there, and he said he wouldn't that night.
(Maybe a month or two ago I was there, and this kid came up to me yelling a lot and asking if I was "That girl from the comic store?" and I said yes, and he yells for me to stay right there and then just runs off. If it was a cartoon something would have fallen on me, right after that. Turns out he's Mark's kid, and he went to go get his Dad. This is also the night I first saw Swordbird, which has to be the most insanely creative rediculous thing I've ever encountered. Charles, theoretically, how would a bird fight with a sword?) (The other funny thing is I've got a really bad memory, especially for people. And I hadn't seen Mark in about six or so years since Barnes and Noble when he came into Dr. No's and I remembered him, but he's also the only person I've ever met who had epilepcy, so that's probably why. Also, one of my coworkers almost beat him up)
So now it's a joke that when I see Mark in our store I tell him if I'm going to Borders. And he said he wasn't, but then he was there, and I told him about the book that I couldn't remember anything pertinent about, and met his wife. She was nice. None of that "how do you know my SO? why are you talking to them?" stuff. I hate when people get like that. Both of them are nice, and so are their kids.
I realize this book is never going to be found, unless I go on cobbcat.org, then onto Galileo, and from there to Novelist, which has got to be the best thing ever. You can search for books by plot on there, and I'm not happy about the fact I'm going home empty handed so I call one of my library coworkers who knows the ins and outs of the system and can get on Novelist for me. And while I'm on the phone I lean on the shelf, then turn to see what I'm leaning on.
And I'm not kidding you, I went over the shelf two or three times, the whole SciFi thing not facing the front doors because I recalled seeing the book that I was looking for on that shelf when I was at the store months ago and that meant I could half the alphabet in my search, and just as he's asking me what to put in Novelist, there's the freaking book I've been looking for. Go figure.
It's Crystal Soldier by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller. It's really good. Really, really good. One of the semi-main characters is a tree. It's really not, but M Jela Granthor's Guard (the real main character- seriously, that's his name) kinda treats the tree like it's a main character, and it grows on you (Cliff, make a joke here). Him and his pet tree. I like Jela and his tree almost as much as I like Damien Vryce and Gerald Tarrant as a team up. (They're CS Friedman characters, from the Coldfire trilogy). It's good. Nothing has really happened yet kinda. It probably has, but I'm liking the universe and the writing so much I'm not trying to figure out what's going on- Jela and the tree could spend the rest of the book walking around space ports and I'd probably enjoy it. It's too good to try and figure out, I guess.
And now, finally, Torchwood Episode 11 has finished, so I'm going to go watch it. After I spell check this. Yay.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
You know you've got a shark infestation when...
[23:06] Me: we've got sharks in our house!
[23:07] Allison: eh?
[23:07] Me: sharks! a shark infestation!
[23:07] Me: like mice, only sharks!
[23:09] Allison: whaaaat?
[23:09] Allison: okay, this I've gotta hear
[23:10] Me: i'm uploading the pics right now!
[23:10] Me: seriously, what kind of traps do you think i have to set? i didn't think you could get a shark infestation this far north.
[23:10] Allison: hahaha
[23:12] Me: we came upstairs and....
[23:12] Me: it was horrible.
[23:12] Me: this is going to be like the "the floor is lava" game until we catch them.
[23:14] Allison: hahaha
[23:17] Allison: wait, what?
[23:17] Allison: did the sharks eat the napkin?
[23:17] Me: yes! like jaws!
[23:18] Allison: haha
[23:20] Me: what do we do?
[23:22] Allison: um, put a chum bucket in the corner and wait quietly with a cattle prod?
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Home Made Jambalaya
First, a picture of what happens when you let your dog outside and the grass has died.
And then Jambalaya! Home made! With chicken and shrimp and Andouille sausage!
And then Jambalaya! Home made! With chicken and shrimp and Andouille sausage!
Friday, February 22, 2008
From here to the End of the Semester
That's about how long I have to figure out what the hell I'm doing with my life, apparently.
Mom and I got in a fight sort of thing the other night about my non-specific plans for my future, which as far as I can tell I'm more frustrated over than she is, only I don't want to yell about it. I just want to figure it out, and get going on it. Only I can't seem to pick anything.
What the fight boiled down to was I need to figure out what I'm going to do after I get out of college, and make sure I have a job as soon as I get out, *or* I'm going to start taking education classes at the end of this semester.
I have no idea why she's so convinced I *have* to become a teacher. Other than the "they're always hiring teachers" line she keeps feeding me. It's like she's the only person I know who can't see what a bad idea it'd be for me to be a teacher. I'm not loud enough, for one, no one listens to me, I'm not particularly fond of kids, and the idea of spending the rest of my life standing in front of a class room fills me with the kind of terror only people with stage fright can truly appreciate. We had a friend of the family visiting last year, from Boston, who was one of the teachers of the year there; brilliant, wonderful woman, and Mom tried to corner her into coaching me to become a teacher, and Lydia refused, trying to explain to Mom that she agreed with me. Not on the specifics, because I never got around to listing them right then, but Lydia just kind of knew.
Part of me thinks it's all just a "doctor or a lawyer" fantasy most parents must grow up with.
The thing is, I'd be happy to do anything if I could just pick something. I like history, and I'm reasonably good at it, so that's what I'm taking at college. I still want to be a writer, but it's become obvious to me over the years you need a day job to do the rest of the time, so I'm not even trying to go for an English major. Just a minor. When I took my archaeology class last summer it became apparent to me how much I like doing something with my hands. That would be a dream job if field archaeology paid more than six thousand dollars a year.
There's a guy at my college in charge of the rare book room, which looks like it's a brilliant job, but the last time I chatted with him Oxford was where you get Rare Book Preservation degrees, and I couldn't get a handle on what the demand/salary was for a Rare Book person (but doesn't that job sound awesome? You should have seen some of the books).
Part of me was thinking about perhaps going for some version of art and history, in the hopes of doing authentication work or restoration, but according to the History sites I've found that kind of work might be covered under general history, at least at a museum.
Dad is slightly less wound up about it. He's happy so long as I'm happy, but at the same time he poked fun at me the other week about choosing a major that's going to wind up with me living in a box.
Mom and I got in a fight sort of thing the other night about my non-specific plans for my future, which as far as I can tell I'm more frustrated over than she is, only I don't want to yell about it. I just want to figure it out, and get going on it. Only I can't seem to pick anything.
What the fight boiled down to was I need to figure out what I'm going to do after I get out of college, and make sure I have a job as soon as I get out, *or* I'm going to start taking education classes at the end of this semester.
I have no idea why she's so convinced I *have* to become a teacher. Other than the "they're always hiring teachers" line she keeps feeding me. It's like she's the only person I know who can't see what a bad idea it'd be for me to be a teacher. I'm not loud enough, for one, no one listens to me, I'm not particularly fond of kids, and the idea of spending the rest of my life standing in front of a class room fills me with the kind of terror only people with stage fright can truly appreciate. We had a friend of the family visiting last year, from Boston, who was one of the teachers of the year there; brilliant, wonderful woman, and Mom tried to corner her into coaching me to become a teacher, and Lydia refused, trying to explain to Mom that she agreed with me. Not on the specifics, because I never got around to listing them right then, but Lydia just kind of knew.
Part of me thinks it's all just a "doctor or a lawyer" fantasy most parents must grow up with.
The thing is, I'd be happy to do anything if I could just pick something. I like history, and I'm reasonably good at it, so that's what I'm taking at college. I still want to be a writer, but it's become obvious to me over the years you need a day job to do the rest of the time, so I'm not even trying to go for an English major. Just a minor. When I took my archaeology class last summer it became apparent to me how much I like doing something with my hands. That would be a dream job if field archaeology paid more than six thousand dollars a year.
There's a guy at my college in charge of the rare book room, which looks like it's a brilliant job, but the last time I chatted with him Oxford was where you get Rare Book Preservation degrees, and I couldn't get a handle on what the demand/salary was for a Rare Book person (but doesn't that job sound awesome? You should have seen some of the books).
Part of me was thinking about perhaps going for some version of art and history, in the hopes of doing authentication work or restoration, but according to the History sites I've found that kind of work might be covered under general history, at least at a museum.
Dad is slightly less wound up about it. He's happy so long as I'm happy, but at the same time he poked fun at me the other week about choosing a major that's going to wind up with me living in a box.
Friday, February 15, 2008
A good day for writing and a suprise at the grocery store...
I saw this in the grocery store book section. ^_^ Made me laugh a little. 'But Lucas doesn't wear a red tunic, and he's got different armor!' at the very least. And the hair is all wrong, for him.
I managed to type a lot today. I've been having trouble with Rome for a few weeks, words won't come, and now that I've gotten to one of the big parts I've planned for over a year I can't quite seem to get them *there* yet. 2688 words today, though, and they came pretty easily.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Rec-ing Ball: Fake Eyelashes
I hate mascara, even though it looks really brilliant on me. I've got really sensitive eyes, and it makes them burn. I hate that, because I'll just start rubbing them and make it worse, and get my makeup everywhere anyway. Besides, it's really not fair that guys always have huge perfect eyelashes.
Anyway, got home from work, forgot what it was but something at work reminded me of this white page boy wig I haven't worn in forever so I went off to look for it. Needed a good brushing before it was wearable, and then I had to remember how you tuck your hair in it and all that. Put it on, and suddenly I'm a lot paler. And I can't recall what kind of makeup goes with really white blond hair, other than heavy black eye makeup.
I'd forgot that I'd also bought some fake eyelashes during the After Halloween Sale this year, thought I'd give them a go.
And they're totally awesome. They don't burn. They feel a little weird, and I know I didn't get them on perfectly straight and close to my actual lashes, and I look a little garish (I joked to my friend if I ever go to a LARP again (one of the indoor ones, not the camping ones) I'm totally wearing this stuff) but omg, I have lashes! And no burning! And they actually curl!
How sweet is that?!
Anyway, got home from work, forgot what it was but something at work reminded me of this white page boy wig I haven't worn in forever so I went off to look for it. Needed a good brushing before it was wearable, and then I had to remember how you tuck your hair in it and all that. Put it on, and suddenly I'm a lot paler. And I can't recall what kind of makeup goes with really white blond hair, other than heavy black eye makeup.
I'd forgot that I'd also bought some fake eyelashes during the After Halloween Sale this year, thought I'd give them a go.
And they're totally awesome. They don't burn. They feel a little weird, and I know I didn't get them on perfectly straight and close to my actual lashes, and I look a little garish (I joked to my friend if I ever go to a LARP again (one of the indoor ones, not the camping ones) I'm totally wearing this stuff) but omg, I have lashes! And no burning! And they actually curl!
How sweet is that?!
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