Nanairo no Ashita

Long Time Coming

2012-01-18T08:43:00.001-08:00

I have recently displayed an amazing ability to completely ignore my blog. Eh. My life, until recently, was not full of things that needed to be blogged about, but let me summarize with Emily's favorite: bullet points.

-The holiday season was fantastic as always. I spent much-needed time with family and friends, picked up time-and-a-half holiday pay for the first time ever (suck on that, Pizza Hut wages!), and had some down time to just relax.
-I have designed a very basic shawl pattern that will be talked about in another post to come soon.
-Back pain, holy cow
-Work, knitting, D&D, bass lessons, and life in general continue in much the same way as before, except for the back pain.

Well, like my mom has said, I did God knows what to my back and it has been bothering me for a week now. It was bad enough on Monday night that, with some pressure from friends and Emily, I finally just caved and went to the ER. They were spectacularly unhelpful in diagnosing my problem, but they gave me a prescription for some lovely pills that knocked me on my ass and made me feel invincible. I am well aware that I am not invincible, which is why I have a follow-up appointment with my regular doctor today. He will probably do some poking and then shunt me off to a specialist.

I've been a knitting fiend lately, but one struck with ADD. I have 4 projects otn right now, but I'm hovering between two of them currently, both scarves. They're simple and easy so I can sit still and do not much with my brain while I work on them. Plus, they're both alpaca, which is soft and feels nice on my hands.

I got a hair cut recently, which is refreshing. I was going crazy with my hair past my shoulders. I chopped it off back to my chin again.

Um, really... that's about all my news for now. I don't have much else to say at the moment, nothing really spectacular has happened to me lately, but my next post will be about that shawl I mentioned in the bullet points, I promise.

What I love most about rivers is:
You can't step in the same river twice.
The water's always changing, always flowing.
But people I guess can't live like that,
We all must pay a price;
To be safe we lose our chance of ever knowing
What's around the river bend,
Waiting just around the river bend...
~Just Around the River Bend (Pocahontas)

Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant

2011-11-06T05:26:00.000-08:00

What does a sloppy zombie get on his clothes?
Staaaiiiiinss...

What does a vegan zombie eat?
Graaaiiinnsss...

What does a crocheting zombie make?
Chaaiinns...

These early-morning zombie jokes brought to you by Patrick and myself. Daylight savings time has ended in the contiguous states as of this morning, and so for the next week or two my sleep schedule will be decidedly odd. On the plus side, this means that when I get up to go to work at 6 or 7 am, it won't still be pitch-dark out.

We went out for my mom's birthday last night and had a good time. I'm glad she liked her present (a knitpicks gift card that turned into Harmony tips only a few short hours after she received it), and I'm glad she had a good time.

Fall has descended upon us suddenly, and most everyone is wondering what happened to our mild, breezy, 60-degree days we had all September and most of October. I like to point out that it is, in fact, November. This time last year, snow was in the forecast. Remember all that mess, guys?

Knitting is happening sporadically on three different projects.
Working is happening a lot.

Patrick and I are meeting Colleen up at the King of Prussia Mall today for some fun time. Patrick wants to visit the Lego store, I want to see the Sanrio store, and it's just a large place to go. It'll probably be busy. I expect this.

Well, I'm off to bake cookies for my coworker who is leaving our store for a promotion at another location. I'll miss her.

Sidenote: Patrick wants me to include a picture of the Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant from the ridiculously silly tv show Adventure Time. So here you go.

2011-10-16T06:29:00.001-07:00

You never realize quite how many little movements your hands and wrist make to do simple things, like hook a bra or sling a shawl around your shoulders, until you injure one of them.

I don't know what I did to my left wrist, but it hurts. At first it was an achey kind of pain when I used or stressed it. Then it developed a sharp quality and spread into my hand near my thumb and forefinger. Then it would ache up my arm to my elbow. All at different times, of course. I went to see a doctor about it on Tuesday, and she sent me off to get x-rays, which I did Thursday night. I have been very careful since then not to irritate whatever injury or abnormality I may have because, you know, ow. I was told not to wrap it except maybe while I'm sleeping (to help prevent any unknowing bad things) because if it is a tendon injury or something, immobilizing it may cause it to begin healing the wrong way. Which makes sense, I guess.
Knitting is out of the question, and that is depressing. Playing most video games is out, too, which is equally depressing. In my free time I am reduced to reading on my nook, which isn't bad but gets hard on my eyes after a while. Work continues like normal, though I was favoring my right hand for most things.
I was set to putting away our order last night, and I went about it very carefully. I made Shift-Runner R do all the heavy lifting and carry the awkward things because he's a strong guy and hey, ow, and I pulled out the battered old cart to tote things around rather than carry them like I normally would. In my mind, I was going about this the best I could. Until, as I was carrying a large, light-weight box (filled with cardboard drink carriers) I tried to quickly back out of someone's way because she wasn't paying attention while on her cell phone. I couldn't move fast enough and the woman plowed right into me. With force. She was not a small woman. After a quick, "Oh, sorry," from her and several tense apologies from me, I put the box in S-R R's arms and walked very quickly into the back where I broke into a bout of Very Strong Language as I ran cool water over my now incredibly painful wrist.
I gave up on the order and went to the register, where that didn't really help any. Like I said before... little movements I never realized were there were suddenly very good at making themselves obvious.

The office is closed Sundays and Mondays, so I will call Tuesday on my break and schedule a follow-up to look at the x-rays and see what's going on. I really hope it's just muscular or something. I keep having horrible visions of surgery and months out of work to heal, and re-injury and other such bad things.

But on to other things.

About a week ago it was October 7th. That may not mean much to you, but to Patrick and I it means three years together. Holy wow, really? It's felt like forever. We went camping last weekend down in Atsion and had a very nice time. It was beautiful weather, and peaceful.

Otherwise, that's really it for my news. Hope the rest of your weekend is smooth and lovely.

My baby may not be rich
He's watching every dime.
But he loves me, loves me, loves me,
And we always have a real good time.
And maybe he sings off key
But that's all right by me.
'Cause what he does, he does so well
Makes me wanna yell!
Let's hear it for the boy!
~Let's Hear it for the Boy, Deniece Williams

2011-09-27T08:57:00.000-07:00

It seems like everyone and their extended family has caught the plague that's going around lately, and I am no exception.
I've been fighting off a combination of a clinging cold and upstart allergies for nearly two weeks now, and Patrick developed something over the weekend, feeling pretty bad by Sunday. We limited contact because I didn't want to be more sick, but that didn't work. I woke up Monday morning and felt like I'd been smacked in the face with a big stick.
My state quickly degraded as the day went on, leaving me a medicine-induced hazy pile of mush on the couch for much of the day. My headache worsened, I went through half a box of tissues in under an hour, and I managed to drink an entire pot of hot tea by myself, which didn't soothe my throat as much as I had hoped it would. I called my bass teacher and let him know I was plagued and wouldn't be able to make it, apologizing for calling last minute. He said it was fine, people get sick and shit happens. I've rescheduled for next week. I also talked to Bob and let him know that Patrick and I were likely skipping.
Patrick called me and told me he felt terrible, like he'd been hit by a car. His whole body hurt.
I laid down for a nap around 3, and I slept through the alarm that was supposed to make it only half an hour long. I slept through my back-up alarm that would have made it an hour, because I know how I sleep when I'm sick. I woke up at about 4:40 and sent off a quick message to Bob that we definitely wouldn't be over for D&D.
I woke up again at 5:45 when Patrick called to tell me he was on his way home.

I've spend most of today being a medicine-induced hazy pile of mush. I'm really trying to rest and relax and kick this thing as quickly as possible, because I have an eight-hour day tomorrow, and I really don't want to miss a shift. That kills my paycheck. I plan on lots of sleeping, fluids, and rest today, and an early night tonight. Hopefully I'll be okay for work tomorrow.

Knitting is going along with two Christmas projects otn and a super-secret thing in progress, but not much lately. I explode randomly from the face, and that doesn't make for good knitting.

They made up their minds, and they started packing.
They left before the sun came up that day.
An exit to eternal summer slacking...
But where were they going without ever knowing the way?
They drank up the wine, and they got to talking.
They now had more important things to say.
And when the car broke down they started walking.
Where were they going without ever knowing the way?

Anyone can see the road that they walk on is paved in gold
It's always summer they'll never get cold
They'll never get hungry, they'll never get old and gray
You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere
They won't make it home but they really don't care
They wanted the highway, they're happier there today
Today

The Way~Fastball

Blog Diarrhea OR I Talk About Lots of Stuff At Once

2011-09-08T06:23:00.001-07:00

August has blown by in a haze of sunny days and warm nights. I don't know where all the time has gone, but the school year has started again and everyone is settling back into the routine.
Patrick has started his new job and loves it. I am still at Wawa and enjoying it. There is much knitting happening (including a beret that expanded after washing into a snood).

The 7th to the 14th Patrick and I are house-/dog-sitting for his mother, who is away on a trip. This is nice for Kobold, because he has a yard to run around in and dogs to play with for a whole week. Now, if only we could get him to stop trying to hump Harley, things'd be pretty good.
Patrick's mom has two dogs, a barrel-shaped mutt named Maddie and a brindle boxer named Harley. Maddie is a stubborn, obstinate, whiny, needy rock of a dog, and she hates Kobold. He teases her, and she whines and barks at him, which excites him more, so he teases her more, so she barks more, and you can see where that is going to lead. A downward spiral of frustration and headaches. Harley is getting old, but she's a sweetheart. She was meant to be a lap dog, and if I sit down anywhere for more than five minutes she will either try to sit on my lap, or curl up as close to me as she can. She's got a pretty gray face now, and she really likes to just take it easy, but Kobold is possessed of a dire need to try and assert his dominance over her. Harley may be a matronly dog of the house, but she is still a hell of a fighter, and she kicks Kobold's ass pretty regularly. I don't know why he hasn't given up.
So we're in the spare room, comfortably crammed onto a twin bed. Normally, Kobold will sleep near our feet. This is fine. On a twin, it means he's more on our feet than by our feet, but that's okay. What is slightly less okay is that Maddie and Harley are Patrick's pack. He is their alpha dog, always has been, always will be. Whenever we sleep here, they sleep with us. So now, at night, there's five of us in the bed: Patrick and myself, and the dogs.
And Kobold can't settle down. He's never slept away from home before, so he doesn't feel at ease yet. We've brought his cage, because until we've spent two or three days here, we don't know how he'll act with the girls when we're away at work. However, if we leave him in his cage in the living room, Harley will shred her mouth open to tear the cage to bits. She doesn't like them. Really, she's a liberator of dogs. If we locked him in a room, she'd scratch a hole through the door. So our plan is to put him in his cage, in the spare room, and hopefully she'll leave him alone. Today he'll only be locked up for a few hours between when I leave around 2:30 and Patrick will get here around 6.

We'll see how that goes.

The first day at the high school across from my store was an eventful one, apparently. Two hours into the start of their day, I notice an ambulance across in the parking lot. Lights going and everything. After questioning several teachers who came in for lunch break, it turns out that one of the students had a seizure. I hope they're okay. And then, about half an hour before school ends, someone pulled a fire alarm and triggered a fire drill that none of the freshman were prepared for. That was kind of fun to watch, though depressing. It was drizzling heavily and all these poor kids were standing outside in teeshirts and things, waiting for the OK to go back in.
I hope that doesn't represent what they can hope for this coming year.

Kelly is now away at Rider University, and I've been texting her on and off all week. She likes her room mate, she likes most of her teachers, and she's looking forward to us coming up to visit next weekend.
Speaking of weekends, Sunday I'm going to the NJ Sheep&Wool festival with my parents and Em. I'm looking forward to it, although I have only a paltry allowance. I have to go food shopping when we get home after house-sitting. Next weekend is a busy one. The 17th we plan to go up to the PA Renaissance Faire with a few friends, and hopefully the weather will hold for it. The 18th we drive up to Rider to visit Kelly, and I bring her some fish for her little tank. I told her to make a list if she forgot anything, and we'd try to bring it up to her.

So, a busy start to the month, but not a bad one. Hurricane Irene blew right past us with minimal weather fuss (although human panic was inevitable and huge). We've got a rainy few days still to contend with, and a chance of rain on Saturday before the sun might come out on Sunday. I have good, waterproof boots, so I'm not worried about mud at NJSW. Much. Might get sucked in, though.

Sunday night, when I run my usual D&D game for Bob and Patrick I'll have two extras. Brandon and his friend Matt are coming to join in for a game or two to get some ideas for the game they run jointly. Brandon has a really difficult group, or so he says, and if his stories are in the slightest way truthful, he needs some help. He jumped right into DMing without really being a player first, so he's having a hard time. Of course, it doesn't help that he has a player who is making senseless arcana checks every chance he gets, because he's good at that. That would give most DMs a bit of difficulty.
So, Brandon has been coming to Bob and I for helpful advice and tips. Last week, I helped him do the math and figure out a fun encounter for his party that would give them a bit of trouble without obviously having the chance of managing a total party wipe (a.k.a., everyone dies). This week, he had a few questions for me and finally, instead of texting him paragraphs of answers, I asked when he was free. Turns out he has Sunday off, so he's going to run his game Sunday afternoon, and then come to my game Sunday night. And, since the rest of the group are fairly experience players (we're going on three years now), and at least one of us is a really good DM and the other is aspiring to DM greatness, they'll have plenty of help if they have questions or anything.

D&D is like knitting in that way. There's always purists and jerks who think there's only one right way, or are elitist about whatever. But usually, most players are totally willing to help you out and answer questions.

"One analogy I’m fond of using is that a D&D campaign is like a wagon. The players are the horses, and the DM is the driver holding the reins. As the players move forward, they take the campaign and you along with them, and you can guide them to a point, but they can be stubborn, hard to motivate, or just plain out of control. Sometimes you have to snap the reins, but if you “crack the whip” too often and keep the players running at full speed all the time, they’ll get worn out, so you need to set a pace that’s comfortable for them but also gets the wagon where it needs to go."
~Chris Perkins, Senior Producer of Dungeons and Dragons' R&D department
(And avowed DM For Life)

August, in Pictures.

2011-09-02T08:58:00.000-07:00

Got no deeds to do
No promises to keep
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morning drop all its petals on me
Life, I love you
All is groovy
--"Feeling Groovy" ~Paul Simon

Day One

2011-08-08T06:33:00.000-07:00

Here I am in Wildwood, sitting on the back porch using hijacked internet to visit blogland.
The party yesterday was fun, and I really enjoyed seeing everyone. My mom is jealous I get to come down here for several days, but she has always been fond of the beach. They got me a Nook color, aand I got gorgeous cashmere/wool socks. Also $65 in Barnes&Nobles gift cards. I will have many books.

It's almost ten, and Patrick woke up briefly to whine at me for leaving him to come out here. He is sleeping soundly again. When we got in last night there was a storm brewing, so the air was hot and heavy with salt water. Everything smelled like the sea. We unpacked and then settled in to watch an episode of Iron Chef America to relax a bit. Patrick went to sleep after that but I stayed up to read a bit.
Of course I am the first one up today, but that is typical. I usually spend my mornings on the porch here, with the sun in the tree outside and a nice salty breeze. It rained over night, but just enough to clear the humidity. The world is already drying up again. Today we will most likely do nothing, but might take a walk on the beach later this evening, when everyone has gone home.

I think, actually, that our time down here will mostly be like that. And that sounds good to me.

Enjoy your week.

On Speaking Preemptively and the Care and Keeping of Certain Fish, Also Birthdays

2011-07-29T09:00:00.000-07:00

Well, the fry have been moved once again because, despite my high hopes, two or three have gone missing and I am now down to nine or ten fishies. They are too large now to be eaten, so I can only assume they have gotten filtered to death. They are now right next to the 10gal in a small 1gal with an air pump and some plants. This makes observation of them much easier, I must say, but it is much harder to regulate water conditions in the smaller tank because any changes made will affect the whole tank immediately.
I need to get a salinity test.
Mollies and platy are brackish water fish, which means they live in water with mild salt content, typically fresh water rivers, near where they spill into the ocean. Mollies can live in water with salinity levers much higher than that of sea water, and they can also tolerate totally fresh water, but are happiest in somewhat salty water. Platy don't like a lot of salt, but can survive in fresh water. This is nice, because having some salt in the water helps discourage certain types of bacteria and fungus that could cause serious harm to my fish. I found the happy medium with basic aquarium salt (not aquarium sea-salt), at about a tablespoon per five gallons.
The one-gallon tank is harder to estimate because I am bad at math. I keep three old milk jugs that are each filled with water and a specific additive for the tank, which I use when I do partial water changes. One is mixed with salt, because adding salt directly to the aquarium isn't very helpful, nor is it particularly good for the fish, who are likely to try and eat it as it dissolves. One is mixed with a clarifying agent, which helps coat small particles so that the filter can pick them up easier. The third one is water conditioner, which removes chlorine and other bad chemicals from tap water.
Both types of fish like their water pretty hard, with a Ph between a 7.6 and 8.0 (Goldfish are typically kept around a 6.8-7.0). I usually keep it around 7.8, and I clean the glass fairly regularly to keep calcium deposits from building up. The 10gal ph is currently around 7.6, because I just did a water change and that throws it off a little. It'll recover quickly. The fry tank is around a 7.5, and there is unfortunately little I can do to fix this in a short-term situation. I have to try and raise the Ph very, very slowly because sudden changes will likely cause all kinds of stress to the fry and kill them all off and then Colleen, who just spent some good money getting a tank and all the things she will need, will be very upset with me.
I have been doing daily water changes, adding about 1/8 tsp of salt to 1/2 cup of water and changing it out, and hopefully that will help.

For now, the big fish are all doing fine, and Sanguine the platy is getting a very round look to her. It's likely she'll have babies in the next two or three weeks. Percy is growing in size again as well, but this is typical of mollies. They retain sperm for up to six months, and will have babies about once a month until they run out.
As for the fry themselves, they seem to be doing fine. I asked around online and found out that while most mollies tend to have babies that retain their color characteristics, because all colors are the same species and most mollies are so interbred, it isn't unusual for them to drop fry that are a totally different color than themselves. Most of Percy's babies are dalmatians, with one or two silvers. There are a few darker ones that I can't quite tell what they are yet. There's also one that may be a "gold dust", which is just another color with golden overtones. And, interestingly, there's a dalmatian that has some gold spots on its right flank.

And then there's Bruiser. I used to call him Gimpfish, but his name comes from a spot directly under one eye that makes it look, well, like he's got a black eye.
Before I noticed the spot, I called him Gimpfish because he seemed to be unable to swim properly. He was constantly vertical (as in the picture), and he had to really work to get himself off the bottom. So I looked around on the internet, to see if there was some kind of deformity or illness that caused this.
Many kinds of fish have an organ called a swim bladder, and it's essentially an internal balloon. They use it to regulate their buoyancy, and when they can't regulate it, they lose their 'balance' and will often sink to the bottom or rise to the surface and be unable to move from that level. This can be caused by a genetic predisposition (inbreeding leads to this), constipation (I didn't understand that either), or a bacterial/internal parasitic infection.
I'm going to isolate Bruiser in the breeder net in the big tank, where I'm sure of the water quality. The process of determining the cause is by eliminating the possibilities. Start by fasting the fish for 2-4 days, and then feed them softened, peeled, and smushed peas. This supposedly will help relieve any constipation. If that doesn't help, try a low-grade antibiotic treatment, followed by an anti-parasite treatment if positive results are still lacking. If all of those treatments still fail you, many people suggest taking the fish to the vet and asking for an x-ray, because it may be a genetic defect within the fish and the "kindest thing to do would be to euthanize the fish."
I didn't realize it, but there's a process to fish euthanasia, too. I always just assumed you flushed them, although the water companies and hard-core 'aquarists' frown on that because it can put harmful bacteria into the water system and cause local wild fish to become sick.
Bruiser is still very small, so I doubt I'll be taking him in for x-rays. Even if he was large, I don't think I want to put out that much money.

But enough about fish.

My birthday is in a week and I just keep forgetting. It feels like half our staff is off next week, so the people who remain are getting extra hours--I work 39, and nearly got ($13.13/hr) overtime except that someone from another store got a hold of us and said he'd pick up some hours. Sigh. I work 9-5 on my birthday, which kind of really sucks, but I'm going to use the money I made that day to buy myself a present.
Sunday the 7th my family is coming over to hang out, and Patrick wants to make my cake. Kelly will be coming over as well, because later Sunday night the two of us will be throwing our stuff in the car and heading down to Wildwood until Thursday. It's our summer vacation, and even though we'll both be totally broke I think we need the time to just do nothing. I told Patrick that even if he gets me nothing for my birthday (which I understand, he just put $550 into his car), I just want him to ignore the fact that he's broke and enjoy some down time with me. We pay rent on Monday, and then I have to go grocery shopping later that week.
Kelly will be here for those five days to take care of Kobold while we're gone. She'll be going away to college in a matter of weeks, and will be taking one or two of my fry to keep her company.

Otherwise, life continues as normally and peacefully as ever. I hope your weekend is a good one. Ours will be hot. Again.

"Love is making a shot to the knees of a target 120 kilometers away using an Aratech sniper rifle with a tri-light scope."
~HK-47, assasin droid from Starwars: Knights of the Old Republic

The Hot One

2011-07-23T15:14:00.001-07:00

It's been in the high 90's all week, and up into the 100's the last day or two, and the weather is starting to wear on everyone. Customers are a little less patient, coworkers are a little less cheerful, friends are a lot less willing to go out places to hang out. The heat has turned swimming pools into bathwater, and while that feels nice, it's not quite as refreshing as a pool that is, maybe, at 75 degrees instead of 85.
Kobold is stoically withstanding heat. He spends most of his days sleeping or relaxing, and we only take him out on short walks right now. He sleeps in the tub at night, because it is cool. I have unplugged the heater in my fish tank because the water is staying at 80 without the heater's help.

I am tired of talking about how hot it is. It's july. It's summer. It's 100 degrees out. Yes, I know, I left my house today, I felt how hot it is out. Yes, thank you, have a nice day. Hello, how are you? Oh, is it hot out? I had no idea, I thought it looked balmy and comfortable from my spot by the door YES I KNOW IT'S HOT.
Our cooler cases that we keep fresh fruit and other foods in at WaWa are failing in the heat. Last night, we had to empty out the ice cream freezer cases because they weren't keeping temperature any more. That was a mess and a half. The deli is constantly steady with people ordering cold sandwiches because they don't want to cook, and I can't really blame them.
I picked up a shawl pattern and some yarn at Nangellini and I've been knitting on and off as the mood takes me.
Oh, I did move the fry from the breeder net and into the tank. They've almost tripled their size so they're big enough now to escape the biggies and the filter. After the first five minutes of being understandably scared out of their tiny fish brains, they adjusted to a larger space and the bigger fish haven't been bothering them much at all. I have some low-set plants and rocks for them to hide in, and they gravitate there, picking at the algae that's growing in the nooks that the big fish can't get to. Some are brave and swim around all over the place, but they mostly hang together in the back. Once they're a bit bigger I'll be able to sex them and start handing them out to the people who are interested. I decided I wanted to try and hand out same-sex pairs so that no one else had to have a baby-fish-panic moment. That may prove to be a futile gesture, though, because apparently mollies can change their sex.
I figure I'll give away as many as I can, and keep the rest.
Teehee, I like watching them get pushed around by the filter's current. They get flung all over the place.

I've got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle
As I go right merrily along.
And they say, 'Oh, ain't you glad you're single?'
And that song ain't so very far from wrong.
~Jingle, Jangle, Jingle (sung by several different people)

Fish Fry

2011-07-07T13:31:00.000-07:00

Do you know how small baby mollies are? About 1/8 of an inch long. Percival dropped her babies earlier this week without my knowledge. I'm assuming Sunday or Monday. I didn't realize it until Tuesday, when I was messing with the filter and found a try swimming around in a quiet corner.
This is a record of my thought process.
Hello, what are yo--Ohhhhh, it's a baby fish. I guess one of the mollies dropped their fry while I wasn't looking. Wonder when that-holy crap, there's another one.
So I hastily prepared a container with some water for them, knowing that they would likely get eaten if left alone. So, I pulled the big fish out and removed the plants and large rocks, leaving just the little glass pebbles on the bottom. The fry were hiding under these, in the tiny spaces the large fish couldn't reach. I scooped one out, and promptly found several more.
It took about half an hour but I found about 14 fish, and one or two got away from me. Two of them were dead when I caught them, and since then two more have died. I was waiting anxiously for my paycheck to go through so that I could purchase the correct apparatus for caring for the tiny fish.

That would be this.
This is a "breeding net", which is just netting on a plastic frame with some cheap plastic plants that attaches to the side of the tank. The idea is to put the pregnant fish in a day or two before she is ready to drop (apparently, you'll start to learn the behavior changes after the second or third batch?) and let her have her babies in there. Afterward, remove Mama and leave the babies in. This keeps them in the tank with steady water flow from a filter while still letting them have a safe place to stay where you can keep an eye on them and they won't get eaten.
I transferred the fry and it may be my imagination, but they seem more active. The water in the main tank is warmer than it was in their little container (mollies and platy are tropical, they like their water around 80*F) so that may be part of it. The tiny bits you see floating on the surface of the water is their food. Mollies bear live young, and they are so tiny when they're first born that they can't eat normal flake food. The preferred method (I did lots of internet research) is to take flake food and put it in a small ziplock back and crush it until it's as powdery as you can make it. From there, take a toothpick, dip it in the water only a little bit, wipe off the excess, and dip it in the powder. That's about the right amount to feed the fry, and you can do so by dipping the toothpick with the food back into the water.
Fry need to be fed every five or six hours. Patrick feeds them for me when I'm at work.
So, all things considered I think my first fish babies are all right. We'll see how many live to be given away, when they've doubled their size they'll be safe to put into tanks with other fish, provided they still have plenty of places to hide. They'll also be able to eat regular flake food.
Meanwhile, I've been preemptively giving them away. Elanor said she'd take one or two, Kelly would like one or two to take to college with her (it depends on how big of a tank they'll let her have in the dorms), and Colleen hit on the idea almost instantly, depending on how expensive getting aquarium things will be. I'm going to try and give out same-sex pairs to people, though, because Mollies are prolific in their reproduction, and I don't think Kelly wants to try and give away fish to her dorm mates.

I picked up some extra hours tonight, because hell, it's money. I'm averaging 30-35 hours a week, so I'm not doing too badly, but last week my hours and bills fell in just such a way that I've been scraping by with $12 in the bank and eating the crap at the back of the fridge. By the time my check cleared this week, I was down to peanut butter sandwiches two meals out of three. But the shopping got done today and it's really a comfort to know that even if I just spent an entire paycheck restocking my cupboards and freezer, I know I have paid all my bills, and there is food fit to eat. I'll have spending money next week.

Knitting along on a light little wrap of my own basic design (triangular, probably with an eventual edging), in Halloween colors. I think it was an Artwalk Sock Yarn Club yarn, but I don't remember. It's all oranges and blacks, plyed with some gold glitz. I'll have pictures up eventually. In Dreams is coming along very, very slowly. I need to have a good deal of patience and focus to work on it, and I've been really busy lately.

We're going down to Wildwood Sunday afternoon because some of Patrick's family has come up from Louisiana for the week. I'll be working 6 a.m. to 2 p.m., so we'll leave shortly after I get home. I'll probably nap on the way down. I hope I'll nap on the way down.

Well, I have to go get ready for work. Hope you've got an easy Friday coming up, and a nice weekend filled with comfortable summer activities.

"Photons have mass? I didn't even know they were Catholic!"
~bad joke from a robot in Fallout 3

Things that Have Happened Recently

2011-06-20T09:52:00.000-07:00

Rodger and B.A. have pretty much outgrown my 10-gal tank, so I have passed them on to my uncle for his backyard pond. B.A. is easily twice as large as the fish already in there.
To replace the koi, I have gotten three mollies and two platy. Cece is a creamsicle lyretail molly, Percival (Percy) is a dalmation molly, Mambo is a black molly, and then I have Sanguine and Ganymede the platy.
Add this to the list of things I never thought I'd say: "I think that two of my fish may be pregnant. I have no clue whatsoever how this happened."
This was followed by a text message conversation with Patrick that went as follows...(which can also be added to the list of conversations I didn't think I'd ever have)
Me: So, Cece and Percival may be pregnant.
P: Oh?
Me: Yeah. Remember how we were commenting on how large Percy is, and I mentioned jokingly that maybe she and Cece are preggers? Turns out I'm kind of right. Female mollies tend to be slightly larger, and the bigger and rounder their bellies are, the closer to dropping fry they are. And they're constantly pregnant. Females always have eggs ready to be fertilized, so if there are females in a tank with males they'll go at it. And often mollies that you bring home from the pet store are already a few weeks away from dropping fry.
P: How silly. But one get fifteen free?
Me: More like buy one, get 13-30 free. Experienced mothers can drop over a hundred fry, if she's large enough.
P: Christ.
Me: Yeah, as long as I don't really care about keeping the fry alive, though, most of them will probably get eaten.
P: Good population control? Could be hard to name them all.
Me: Well, okay, molly moms don't usually eat their own fry, and it's not unheard of for mollies to just leave the fry alone altogether, since they might not see them as food. So, fingers crossed that most get eaten?
P: Well damn, Maybe the others will eat them?

Aaand they might not, mollies and platy aren't big and cannibalistic like goldfish and koi. I may soon have quite a lot of molly babies on my hands. Um...

A lot of friends and family and so forth have been asking me how my job at Wawa is going, and I find myself telling them the same sorts of things. It's fun, hard, enjoyable coworkers, long days, more money than I ever made at Pizza Hut... and I'm happy. I come home from work tired, but it isn't the soul-sucking exhaustion that Pizza Hut inflicted on me, it's the normal "I've been up since five and on my feet for eight hours, so yeah, I'm a bit tired" kind. And that's nice.
I'm not doing six days a week for a month straight, or twelve days straight over two weeks. I'm not getting bothered by my boss about overtime because we're so understaffed that I have no choice but to work 40 hours a week, usually more.
And that is all really nice.
I did 39 hours just this last week, which was only because several people were out on vacation. This week I'm down to 24. I get paid week to week, which is also nice because it means that I'm not waiting for payday to be able to go grocery shopping.
Every job has its down sides, and I'm finding them as I go along and get comfortable with the way things work. They are comparatively few.

The nicest thing is that since I'm not so exhausted all the time that my days off are actually like days off. I get the things I need to do done, and then I have free time to myself. At Pizza Hut, I didn't have the energy left to do the things I needed. I spent my days off building up energy for my next working stint. Today? Today I got up and cleaned the bedroom. Then I had breakfast, and fed and walked Kobold. Then I cleaned the kitchen. And then all my chores were done, and I was settling down with my laptop. I had lunch, and did a water change in my fish tank.
That was when I became a little worried about the expanding stomachs of Cece and Percy, and decided to do the research that started this post off.

I've been spinning and knitting a bit more than previously, but I've already settled in with the fact that I will never be as prolific a knitter as my mother. I'm okay with that.
Patrick's final day of class is Thursday, when he finishes his Associates Degree finally. He's terribly excited, and I can't blame him. Friday we're going down to Atlantic City with my family for our typical summer trip (we find a nice buffet somewhere and feast mightily), and then Saturday is the Miles for Mandy walk. Em and Jim are going to crash here over night Friday into Saturday so they don't drive down to AC, back home that night, and then down to South Harrison for the walk the next day. Our couch folds out into a tolerably comfortable bed, and we have air conditioning.
That's a big plus.

Well, that's all the news from my neck of the woods. I'm going to go watch my fish swimming around with Kobold. He likes watching this group, they're more active than Rodger and B.A. were.

And it was just any old kind of day,
The kind that comes and slips away,
The kind that fills up easy my life's time.
~Harry Chapin, "Any Old Kind of Day"

2011-06-10T19:21:00.000-07:00

Patrick's sister Kelly graduated today. The weather held out, and Sterling held the event outside. It was a little warm, and the bleacher benches were uncomfortable, but I suffered through it just like my family suffered through for me. I had absolutely no hand in raising this wonderful young woman, but when Kelly's name was called (and she got announced with scholastic honors!) I felt as proud as any sister.
After the Throwing of the Caps, we hunted her down and posed for a few pictures before we slithered out of the crowd. Kelly headed inside and I followed. A few more pictures later and we said goodbye. Kelly had to pick up her diploma and then she had to decide if she was going to go to project graduation or not. Project graduation is a thing that Sterling does where they set up some kind of mini field trip for the seniors after graduation to have some last-minute memorable fun with their friends until rather early morning (I think mine went until 3 AM). It was strange being back inside the school that I was in for four years, and have not seen four years.
It still smelled the same.

On the way home, I turned to Patrick and said, "So your little sister has graduated high school." To which he said, "Yeah, I need to make a will." He feels old now, but he'll get over it. Kelly is five years younger than him, and four years younger than me. She goes away to a semi-local college next fall, and I'll miss her. Until then, I have already told her that I will commandeer as much of her summer as I can. I have to fill my Kellymeter before she leaves.

My friend Brandon's sister graduated today, as well as a guy that I worked with at Pizza Hut (from which I am now officially gone). I tried to find them, but it was very crowded.

So congratulations Sterling class of 2011, the 50th commencement of Sterling High School. They called them "the golden class."

Making Delicious

2011-06-03T18:00:00.000-07:00

A coworker of mine brought me in something that she had described as "crab meat, pasta, and sauce that combine to make delicious" and it turned out it was crabmeat-penne in vodka sauce. And it was delicious. So, I promised to make her something equally delicious in return.

Both of us being big blueberry fans, I settled on a blueberry pie.
Now, let me just say before this goes any further that I have never made anything more than a pumpkin or apple pie for thanksgiving before, because I don't like store bought filling and the image in my head of boiling up a pie filling from scratch was for some reason incredibly difficult.
Turns out it isn't. I found a really good-sounding recipe from my dearest friend Allrecipes (It's this one) and bought the ingredients today on my way home.

The two pints of blueberries almost didn't make it home, they were so sweet and tasty.

But after a quick stop to see Patrick's sister Kelly off to prom (emerald green strapless dress against dark red hair--she looked absolutely stunning!) I got home and proceeded to be suddenly intimidated by the recipe. Two steps? Really? Something must be wrong here. I reviewed it again, nearly memorizing the incredibly simple set up before dragging Patrick out the door again to our local library's annual book sale, where I got six books for $9. I, Robot (Issac Asimov), Letters from a Nation (ed. Andrew Carroll), The Songs of Distant Earth (Arthur C. Clarke), World Folk Tales, Monstrous Regiment (Terry Pratchett), and I couldn't pass up on Vikings! by Magnus Magnusson.
We got home and I made empanadas for dinner, and finally buckled down to the seemingly impossible task of making this pie. I'd gotten enough ingredients to double the recipe and make a pie for me as well as a pie for her. It took me about 15 minutes, and then I had a pot full of blueberry pie filling.

I removed it from the heat when it had boiled long enough (about two minutes), and set it aside on an unused burner to cool. I tried a little bit and was sent into paroxysms of joy. It was so delicious! Perhaps a little less lemon extract next time, but even so it is absolutely delicious.
So, as that cooled, I started on the other part.

This pie has two fillings: the standard blueberry-water-sugar-cornstarch-lemon mixture, and a cream cheese-confectioner's sugar-whipped cream concoction that is to die for.

I whipped up the heavy cream as directed (and decided next time to use cool whip) and then beat together the cream cheese and sugar until it was so tasty in and of itself that folding in the whipped cream that just made it light and fluffy was almost unfair.
Even Patrick liked it (but not the blueberries, because he won't eat them).

As the blueberry filling continued to cool (It will take a while) I filled up the bottom of the premade shortbread crusts I'd bought--don't give me that look, this pie doesn't get any baking and I'm not making a crust from hand--with that heavenly sweet cream cheese.

The pie filling will go on top, but it's still far too warm to mess with yet. After it's been spread on top, the pie gets refrigerated until you are ready to glory in all the amazingness that is blueberry pie made from scratch.

I've got some leftover cream cheese mix and will probably have leftover filling, and they will go into a container together for me to enjoy sans crust, perhaps for breakfast tomorrow.

Guilty about health food? Me? Not at all.

My last day at Pizza Hut is tomorrow, a simple 5-hour shift. I open with one of my favorite managers, and we're going to make a trip to dunkin donuts in celebration/despair.

Bob is also coming over tomorrow to hang out and discuss some DM things with me, since he has much more experience running D&D games than I do, and I have a few questions for him.

Patrick and I have decided to read I, Robot together. Right now, he's reading me the first short story, Robbie. It's one of my favorites, but I'm a sucker for a great short story.

Sunday we may go to the lake with my parents, depending on how the weather looks. It may be a bit too chilly.

Fairy Blue
kimi no tame ni hoshi wo kudaki
kazaritsuketa
Black paper moon
Shinjite kureta nara
When you're lost
Here I am
Forever with your soul
Miagereba kagayaku tsuki no you ni
Fairy Blue
for your sake I would destroy the stars
and decorate with a
Black paper moon
If you just believe in me
When you're lost
Here I am
Forever with your soul
Look up, just like the shining moon
~Papermoon; Tommy heavenly6

2011-05-25T17:31:00.000-07:00

The last two weeks in bullets:

-Well, so we never got to go to the shooting range, just to clear up that bit of disappointment. Some things came up and Patrick's brother couldn't take us, comes with being a cop.

-Got hired at Wawa (local chain convenience store with a name for treating employees really well) for $8.50 an hour.

-Put in my three weeks' notice at Pizza Hut, nearly slugged my manager because he was being a jerk about it.

-The world didn't end.

-I got through the interminable and mind-numbing training videos at Wawa and started hands-on training.

-Patrick ended the semester with three B's and an A, and has one last class before he finishes his degree.

-My PH manager drove me insane when I asked him to cut my hours back a little since I've been doing close to 50 hours a week, seven days a week, for two and a half weeks (ending at four weeks straight) and found out that not only did he NOT read the note explaining the situation, he didn't listen to my problem or the solution I posed. Please remember that he is the one who asked me to write the note that he ignored.

-I decided that being an adult and taking adult consequences isn't always easy, especially when the other person/people involved aren't acting like adults in return.

-I decided that my least favorite part of Wawa is finding cigarettes. There's approximately 80 billion different kinds of cigarettes, cigars, and chewing tobacco in stock, and they're all the same five colors with the same two box designs.

-I am preparing for raptor attacks. The grass across the way on the margin at the train tracks is now as tall or taller than I am in most places. Take this picture as proof: Patrick is standing on a hill amidst the grass. You can't even see where Kobold is.

My last day at Pizza Hut is June 5th, and I can't wait to get out. Knitting just isn't happening, what with 45 hours, seven days a week for four weeks. I'm so tired all the time, hence why it took so long to get this blog post out.

"Well, you know the old formula. Comedy equals tragedy plus time. And you have been asleep for a while. So it's really pretty funny when you do the math."
~GladOS, Portal

2011-05-11T07:22:00.000-07:00

Well, keeping up with my last post, Sony claims that their restoration plans will have all PSN services up by May 31st. There was a bit of confusion and anger over a mis-worded post on Sony's blog that said the PSN would be up by the 31st, but failed to detail that their plans were to restore service in phases, with everything restored by the 31st. They hint that multiplayer matchmaking will be up before then, but we can't be sure.
Game companies are furious at their loss of money, still people are putting blame on Anonymous, though they have come forward and said they are not responsible, and perhaps someone is framing them since Sony investigators found a folder titled 'Anonymous' placed in a random location in their servers that contained the message "We are legion." While Anonymous has picked on Sony before, they still are claiming no responsibility.
Good luck, Sony, on eventually finding out who did it. Since you still don't know, even with the FBI's help.

Also, Roxie, I doubt that Microsoft would put themselves in that kind of dangerous position. At this point, whoever attacked Sony is in for some really serious legal trouble if/when they are found.

On a brighter point, I get to go shooting on Saturday.

Patrick's birthday is the 14th, and his brother (the cop) is taking him to the shooting range. I requested the day off with trepidation, knowing that two of our other employees were going to be out of state already, and managed to guilt Matt into letting me have the day. So now I get to go with them to the shooting range. Is it strange that I am so excited about this? Because I think it's really awesome.

Patrick got his present a little early, since it's hard to hide a plant that needs lots of sunlight. Several years ago, he got an aloe plant from his grandmother. When he went away for a few days on a trip, he asked his younger sister to watch it, with instructions that it requires a lot of water, but only when the soil gets dry.
She watered it to death, and he misses it a lot. Every time we see an aloe plant, he reminisces about the one his sister killed. So I got him a new one. It may not be the one his grandmother gave him, but he likes it anyway.

Work has been slow and profit-less this last week, so when I get home today I am going to follow up on an interview I had at Wawa last week, and hopefully remind them that I exist.

"We are Anonymous. We are Legion. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us."
~Anonymous

EDIT:
Apparently there are videos up on Youtube now that are Anonymous claiming to take responsibility. I am surprised that these have not received more publicity in gaming media, but I'm not sure I'll take these as truth just yet.
EDITx2:
So, turns out that Anonymous IS responsible for it. Currently they are going through an internal battle. Typically, Anonymous' harassment always falls under the rule "don't hurt bystanders" and they've kept to this creed pretty well. So when Sony filed lawsuits against two men for opening their Playstation3s and showing people on video how to crack into the software to make it support Linux and other OSs, Anonymous leapt to their defense.
Originally, though, they only planned on hacking into Sony's websites. This changed, however, when some sub-groups and members decided that this wasn't enough, and apparently carried out the intrusion that caused the PSN to be taken down. Anonymous is now split between people who think it went to far, and people who want to keep going. Some members are apparently aiming for Sony's complete takedown, or something equally drastic.

2011-05-03T19:21:00.000-07:00

I feel very, very bad for diehard Sony fans and supporters right now. If you don't follow gaming or tech news, on April 20th Sony took down their Playstation Network (PSN) in response to an 'intrusion' on their San Diego database. The PSN is the Sony equivalent of XBox Live; that is, it is their online system that connects consoles and allows people to play cooperatively over their internet connection. They bragged that it was "free XBox Live".
The PSN was taken down without warning and it was a few days of vague and little information before Sony came out to say that customer credit/debit card numbers, addresses, emails, and even possibly phone numbers had been compromised in the attack. They are working on rebuilding a new PSN that is much more secure, apparently. Three weeks in and there's still no online compatability for PlayStation users.
But it gets better.
Just yesterday (Monday the 2nd) Sony announced that it was taking down their PC online system, Sony Online Entertainment (SOE) because it had also been included in the security breach. So much for Everquest and DC Universe. In addition to the millions of PSN customers, SOE customers are now scrambling to cancel credit cards and change all their passwords. Several thousand out-of-country "outdated" accounts have also been compromised. Sony is now looking at near 100 million possibly hacked accounts. They know the information has been taken, and now they are working on contacting everyone who was effected.
The FBI as well as several others are assisting Sony's investigation of the attack, and Sony is offering several "welcome back" goodies for customers who return to using their service (whenever it goes back up). For SOE users, a free month on top of their regular subscriptions and they have said they'll match an extra day for every day that SOE is down. In the case of PSN users, whose online service was provided for free already, apparently there will be a few free download-able goodies.

Meanwhile, Microsoft and Nintendo fanatics are taking this time to gloat and sit on their high horses while some Sony users are apparently considering switching to XBox. Sure, you may be paying for it, but I will say that I have been a Live member for close to three years now, and I have never had an issue with the service being taken down.
Speculation as to the spawning of "spear phishing" (yes, pronounced "fishing") scams and rumors of the so far unknown attacker trying to sell the stolen information back to Sony abound, although that last one has been stoutly denied by Sony employees.

I feel even worse for Sony, who is probably foundering in a sea of horrible situations right now, even as they try to fix the engines and patch the holes.

Note: 'Phishing' is the term used when someone is trying to scam you into giving out personal information like credit cards or passwords. Often these are done under the guise of a large company. 'Spear Phishing' is apparently a highly refined version of this, wherein the scammer has such detailed information that they can create a very personal angle of attack. That's my guess anyway, first time I've heard phishing with spear added on.

"It
Only Does
Everything"
(When it hasn't been hacked)
~Playstation ad slogan

2011-04-28T20:06:00.000-07:00

It's been quite a while since I posted anything. In my defense, I've had a lot going on and work is draining me more than ever. Employees are dropping like flies and I hope to soon be one of them.

I had a post planned out for last week, but when my mom called me at work last Wednesday to give me the news of my cousin, everything got swept away. I sat in the back at the break table for about half an hour. The cook went out to help my customers for me while my manger helped me calm down. It seems extreme, but her passing shook me hard. Barely 30 years old and the cancer just swept her away forever. It's heart-breaking.
Since then I've been bracing myself regularly whenever she comes up in conversation. My coworkers ask every once in a while how my family is holding up, and I always have to tell them that my immediate family isn't the one I'm worried about. The pain of losing a sister and a daughter must be terrible. I am glad that I have not had to experience that, and I hope that I never do.
I'm not looking forward to the funeral tomorrow. Lucky for his own skin Matt didn't give me any trouble about needing to take off halfway through my (8-hour) shift, and ServerD (bless her) offered to come in early so there was someone there to cover me while I did my side work so I could get out on time. Her sister-in-law is also suffering from a return of breast cancer, so the news of my cousin's death hit home for her as well.

I'm not sure what to say after that, really. Getting through work tomorrow is going to be hard, and getting dressed and getting in the car will be even harder. Patrick is going to come with us, to give support where he can. We've all got pink (her favorite color) or yellow and black (in honor of her love of everything bee) to wear, and I'm going to tuck a box of tissues in the car, with a bundle in my purse as well. It will be a long, long day.

Look at me, I'm getting teary-eyed again. I wish this never had to happen to anyone so young. Excuse me while I go get myself some tissues.

Here's hoping your weekend is so much more cheerful than mine.

I'll never say goodbye
'Cause I can't forget her
"Winterlong~Beat Crusader

The Coming

2011-03-18T17:46:00.000-07:00

Spring is asserting itself against the last chill grip of winter here, as demonstrated by today's 72-degree sunny weather. It was nice. I broke out the tee shirts and didn't have to wear a jacket. Patrick and I took Kobold out on a nice, long walk and by the time we got home an hour later he was tuckered out on the kitchen floor. Four hours later, he's still snoozing by the foot of the couch. I call that an hour well spent.

Burl is currently in pieces, hanging in my mother's laundry room. Dad is helping me to finish it, and right now it's soaking in its last coat of tung oil before we shellac it.

My hours got cut at work because the DM got mad that labor costs were so high over the last week or two, but since we were much slower than usual it was no surprise to any one else at the store. So, in order to make DM happy, Matt had to cut my CSR hours off the schedule (I cost the most after the managers). I went from 37 hours this week to somewhere around 25. It seriously sucks. I don't mind having a bit of a break, but I hope it doesn't continue like this. I can't afford a permanent cut.

I've been pretty drowsy lately, a result of not sleeping well as the weather wreaks havoc on my internal system. I've been getting sniffles and headaches alternately as things thaw out and then cool down. I'm countering this by taking Melatonin before I go to bed, and that's been helping. Now if only Kobold would stop waking us up in the middle of the night barking at bunny rabbits...

That's really about it for the news updates here. Em's birthday is coming up and I am planning a super-awesome present for her. And then after that I have a month to get something together for Patrick.

If I had a million dollars,
I'd buy you a green dress.
But not a real green dress, that's cruel.
~Barenaked Ladies "If I Had A Million Dollars"

2011-03-13T06:22:00.001-07:00

The double-treadle thing is new to me, but I think we can work it out together. It helps me keep rhythm better than a single treadle, I must admit.
Meet the new wheel:
My mother and I set out yesterday with the goal of obtaining her a new, travel-worthy wheel. We got to our favorite lys and were introduced to a few new wheels, but she chose to flirt a little with the Kiwi, and it was just about love at first sight. And when the Kiwi's attention was turned to me, I could see the merits of its charm.

We walked away with two.

We also got some free roving (romney) since we bought two wheels, and my mom gave it to me to get back into the groove with. I spent a few hours before work yesterday dividing it up into color bundles so I can get the colors to change without getting into n-plying. I'm not quite that brave yet.
So far, I've really just produced a lot of semi-yarn barf. It's not quite as bad as real yarn barf, but it's not constant enough to make anything really gorgeous out of. I will knit something small and plain with what I make, perhaps a headband or something for my hair.
We'll see.

I've been working an average of 37 hours a week at work lately, and they have been long ones. I come home rather tired and haven't done much knitting since my stitch count on In Dreams clue 2 went off and I had to rip back to my lifeline at the end of clue 1. It was heart-breaking to pick out all those tiny stitches and all those little beads. I think that I shall fall far behind on this KAL, but I set out at the start to take my own time and enjoy it at my own pace. I will not feel rushed.

Tim is starting to wake up out of his quasi-hibernation stupor and is eating a great deal more crickets than previously. It's a good thing that they're only eleven cents a piece. I'm bulking him up for when I eventually release him into a marshy crick/drain in the woods by the apartment. The mosquitoes and other insects swarm the area once the weather thaws, so he won't go hungry.
Flo has passed away, however, due to an overabundance of ammonia in the tank. Rodger has suffered ammonia burn and is left with black patches on his scales that mark where the burn was the worst, and where it healed. Randolph the pleco didn't grow fast enough and suffered death by eating.
So now in the tank Hannah and Rodger are surviving, with their new friend B.A. the koi. When I release Tim I will move them out of my 5g tank to the 10g that he's in. Or, I don't know, I considered switching them over beforehand anyway, because B.A. really kind of needs a bigger tank, and now that Tim is by himself he doesn't need all that space. I need a more powerful filter if I do that, though.

Well, I have just finished dinner (taco rice, which is just taco meat and fixings served over a bed of rice; try it, it's tasty) and I am going to relax with my wheel while Patrick plays video games. Daylight Savings Time has taken its toll on our internal clocks and even though the clocks say 9:21, my body says 8:30. It will take a few days to adjust, with me staying and waking up later than usual, but I have Monday and Tuesday off so I plan on sleeping in anyway and doing as much relaxing around my usual chores as I can.
Tuesday I'm having dinner with my parents and my Dad is going to help me finish my Kiwi, who is whispering a few names to me. Some are male, there's one or two females, but the one that's sticking in my head is the old English/French (my mom teased me gently about some of the name vibes I was getting... one of which was Sven) name Burl. It means 'tuft of wool' apparently.

My favorite part is the little kiwi carved on the treadle.

"I claim that in losing the spinning wheel we lost our left lung. We are, therefor, suffering from galloping consumption. The restoration of the wheel arrests the progress of the fell disease."
~Mahatma Gandhi

2011-02-28T06:22:00.000-08:00

Video games for the improvement of the hospital system? I'm all for that.

There is a charity called Child's Play, and you've probably never heard about it. Mike and Jerry of the (in)famous webcomic Penny Arcade started it in 2003, and as of the 2010 final tally it has raised over two million dollars. Child's Play started as a collecting of games and toys for hospitals around the US for children's wards, as kind of a neat idea that might give back to the world. Now it is huge, spanning not just the US but finding its way to Canada, England, Australia, Egypt, and New Zealand. There are raffles and fundraisers, and even a black-tie auction dinner in their hometown of Seattle that raised just about $184,000 in three hours last year. All of this money and these things go to buying the stuff that hospitals need for their kids, and it isn't just video games. It's Matchbox sets, paints, crayons, toys, games, stuffed animals, handheld systems like the DS, and so many other things.
And there are studies. PA has funded research about things like children asking for less pain medication during procedures with/without games. And you know what? It's true. Children undergoing dialysis asked for less medication when they had a DS in their hands than they did when they didn't have anything. Doctors routinely send information to the Child's Play coordinator about the wonders that their program is working.
Mike and Jerry get emails all the time, and at the PAX Q&A they get people who stand up all the time to say that they lived in the hospital as a child, and that programs like this one mean so much to them.
Isn't that just amazing? $2,294,317.53

One day, I will save up the money and buy a ticket to the charity dinner. I probably won't have any money to spend there, but I will go nonetheless.

"I'm just thrilled to be a part of something that has catastrophically succeded."
~Wil Wheaton, talking about Child's Play

Holy Blog Posts, Batman!

2011-02-06T09:51:00.000-08:00

Two in two days? How strange, I know. But I felt a little awkward after putting so much bad feeling into my blog the last few days and I wanted to share something a little more... normal, if not uplifting. So here are some random things I've been thinking about recently.

Kobold has been a needy creature lately, and he likes laying on my legs and cutting off the circulation to my feet. When we are in bed for the night, he'll curl up in a ball between Patrick and I, and then throw himself into our legs until he's hollowed out a sufficient spot and balled up all of my comforter underneath him. On the couch, he curls up on my feet and stares up at me soulfully as if to say, "Yes, I'm adorable. Scratch my belly?" This is good, because when we first adopted him Kobold was not a very social dog and we were afraid that he would never quite be at ease with anyone. We opted to force our love upon him, descending out of nowhere when he least expected it with belly scratches and loving pets and just plain old love. He usually responds favorably, though when he's feeling a little crank he'll wait for it to finish, get up, and move somewhere else.
Another thing we've been doing is taking him to the pet store with us, to get him used to socializing with other people and animals in an environment that is not his own. It's just a guess on my part, but I think that as a puppy Kobold was removed from his mother and litter at too early an age. With dogs, this can lead to aggressive social behavior, and much rougher play. Apparently without their mother around to bring them up right, I suppose, dogs react differently to strangers. Instead of approaching or backing away slowly, they might become very aggressive or even attack without provocation. At home, he barks up a storm, but runs away from strangers or people he does not know well. At the store, he approaches cautiously and barks much, much less. His general behavior around people has started improving, and that is great.
Without their litter, though, puppies don't learn how to play nice. It's kind of like how lions learn to hunt by playing with each other as cubs. Dogs learn the difference between play-bites and defense-bites at a young age by, well, hurting each other. We got around this by teaching him the same way he would have learned as a puppy. When Kobold bit us too hard while playing, we would bite him back. Nothing enormous or wounding, just enough that he realized, "Ow, that kinds of hurts. Guess I should back off a bit." And now he's become much nicer while playing, too. Good improvements all around.

I've been mildly obsessed with a game called Mass Effect recently. I borrowed ME2 from Bob last year when it came out without having played the first one and was immediately absorbed into it. I purchased the downloadable version of the first one and played through, and now I'm working on my second play-through of ME2.
It's produced by a company called Bioware, and they're known for the well-written stories behind their games. These are the people who have brought the gaming community Dragon Age, Shattered Steel, Knights of the Old Republic, and many others. The depth in their games is amazing. They like to make a codex that you can collect entries in that go into detail about parts of the world and its history. These are like encyclopedias of the game and I am always amazed at the wealth of detailed information to be found there. A lot of thought goes into the games, and it's a lot of information to process at once. Especially in a game like Mass Effect, where you're thrown into a galactic setting and have to take a lot of things for granted at first. As you fill out your codex (mostly by just exploring and poking things with sticks) you start to learn things like why the Turians hate the Humans, and why the Protheans are so important. There's a history and a reason to their settings, and it gives the world such a depth that I'm drawn in almost immediately.
But one thing that Bioware does makes me like their games so much more, and that is what I call the "deep-thought-instance." These are missions or situations that make you stop and think. The ones in Mass Effect need a little explanation and so I will try to fill in the necessary details without bogging you down with too much information.
The basic storyline is that you've just been designated a Spectre, or a warrior who works for the Galactic Council without actually working for them. You can do their dirty work your own way, without being tied down by political niceties like the Council members are. Well, there's this other Spectre name Saren and he's just gone rogue. Turns out, he's allied himself with something named Sovereign and they're planning on wiping out all sentient life, starting with the Council's home station, the Citadel.
Sovereign is a Reaper, which are synthetic creatures that truly are AI, not just a man-made likeness of one. The Reapers originate in 'dark space,' the place beyond the known galaxy where, as far as we were concerned, nothing living could survive. Periodically throughout the history of the galaxy, the Reapers have appeared out of nowhere and then systematically destroyed all sentient space-faring life, only to return to dark space again, leaving no trace of themselves beyond the technology they use to guide the evolution of the sentient species. So, understandably, we want them stopped. The Council thinks you're full of it, and tell you Saren is working on his own with the Geth (networked AI robots) for his own goals. Take him out, stop spouting lies about the Reapers.
So, with that in mind you set out to build a team and save humanity. You get yourself a totally rockin' crew, confront Saren when he attacks the Citadel, and then defeat him and Sovereign, foiling the Reapers' attempts to start their slaughter. The Council says fine, whatever. Go about your business. BTW, thanks for saving us. End Game One!

One of ME's deep-thought-instances is the implementation of a Paragon-Renegade system. This is choice-based and in certain instances you can decide whether to take the Paragon or the Renegade path. For all the good things you do (save the Council/rescue random people/saving the last remaining Rachni [space-bug-aliens]) you gain Paragon points. This is represented by a charm score. Having a high Paragon rating means that you can do things like talk your teammate down from killing you during a plot-important mission. If your score isn't high enough, you shoot him in self-defense, and lose a very valuable team member. For the bad things you do (let the Council die/kill your teammate/kill the last Rachni) you get Renegade points. When your intimidate score is high enough, you can talk your teammate down from killing you. Really, the difference between the two options is all in how you accomplish your goals. But the game gets hard if you don't put one over the other, so being wishy-washy isn't a good way to save your team.
In the second game, the Paragon-Renegade system changes and instead of placing points and buying levels in either option, you are presented throughout the game with little icons during certain scenes that tell you you have an option open. These are what guide your rating, and so it's much harder to bring one up over the other. I generally stick to the Paragon options because I find it much more effective to have people on my side rather than dead, but there are a few Renegade options I can't pass up. The Krogan that wants to take over the galaxy and is ranting about how all the other races are going to suffer and weep before him... well, he just happens to be standing right above a tank of highly flammable gas. The mercenary that is repairing the gunship they plan on using against a guy I want on my team? "You're working too hard." And I taser him in the life-support system.
But that's where it becomes iffy. You can import your character from the first into the second, and all the choices you made in the first game matter in the second. Did you save the Rachni queen? She manages to get you a message saying the remainder of her species have retreated to a distant system and they are recovering from near-extinction, and when the time comes they'll be by your side against the Reapers. How about the Council, did you let them die? Well, the new Council isn't happy about that and are very unwilling to listen to your story about the Reaper threat. And your teammate, did you manage to talk down Wrex? Good because when your new krogan crew member needs help, Wrex is going to be a big asset. Better be real sure of your choices in ME2, there's a third one coming out this fall.
So now you can see why the Paragon-Renegade thing is really interesting to me.

There are some other deep-thought-instances in the second game that are some really heavy stuff. The Krogan race, an extremely aggressive and warlike people, are pretty much entirely capable of taking over the galaxy if they wanted to. In an effort to avoid that, some Salarian scientists develop something called the Genophage. This is falsely assumed to be a sterility plague, but it affects birthrate, not fertility. One in one thousand Krogan babies survive birth. One of your crew was a scientist who worked on modifying the Genophage. When it was discovered that the Krogan were adapting and overcoming it, the Salarians began to alter it. During his loyalty mission (a mission where you assist your teammate with a personal matter and therefor gain their undying loyalty) Mordin confronts a fellow scientist who also worked on the altered Genophage. There is a lot of talk about the morality behind releasing something like that on the Krogan. Mordin talks about his time working on the new version, and how he was very careful in how they implemented the modified Genophage. The goal was only to control the population boom of the Krogan, not to wipe them out. He made sure that the Krogan population would stay at a certain level. Is that right? They've 'killed' hundreds of millions of Krogan with the Genophage, but by doing so they've averted an enormous galactic war that would have cost just as many lives.
And then there's Jack. As a child, she grew up in a lab facility where scientists did terrible experiments on her and flooded her with drugs in order to increase her biotic (psych) powers. They tested methods on other children before they implemented anything on her, and the kids who survived were pitted against her in an arena where they conditioned her to fight. What reason could people have to do this? What on earth was going on in their heads that any person could bring themselves to commit such atrocities on anyone, let alone children?

Mass Effect is really good at making you think, and I wonder if things like this will ever catch on? Will more video games start making you really think about the consequences behind your actions?
(For the record, I save the Rachni queen, and the Council. )

But it's drawing near time for me to leave for work and wrestle the crowds of football fans into submission.

"We impose order on the chaos of organic evolution. You exist because we allow it, and you will end because we demand it."
~Sovereign

She said, "Days go by..."

2011-02-05T12:18:00.000-08:00

For no easily discernible reason, my schedule at work runs from Wednesday to Tuesday. This is a fact that needs to be explained so that the magnitude of my following statement can be fully understood.

Due to my manager's jerkiness, my schedule has changed and I am working on eleven days of shifts in a row. Normally I would have off Wednesday and Thursday, and then work Friday to Tuesday. But, since ServerN ran her mouth off to her boss, she got fired and until NewGirlA is done training, everyone's picked up extra hours to make up for it. It started last Thursday, with all the snow.
1/26: off
1/27: 11-9 (serve)
1/28: 4-9 (csr)
1/29: 4-9 (csr
1/30: 4-8:30 (csr)
1/31: 10-4 (serve)
2/1: 10-5 (serve)
2/2: 10-4 (serve)
2/3: 12-9 (serve)
2/4: 4-10 (csr)
2/5: 4-10 (csr)
2/6: 3-9 (csr)
2/7: off

Being on day number ten, I can honestly say I have gotten next to nothing done between shifts. My time off at night, or in the mornings has mostly been spent sitting being lazy on the couch. This is above and beyond my normal laziness, which would usually give me a few days to vegetate and then use some of my weekend mornings to get some stuff done.
Yesterday I sat on the couch all day and played video games. Today, I got up, showered, and Patrick and I went to breakfast at IHOP with his cousin Ben. When we got home, I did manage to convince Patrick to wash the dishes today, and I straightened up a bit (read: put away all the things I've left out over the last week) and cleaned my fish tank. Then Ben came over and he and Patrick have been playing video games for most of the afternoon, while I explored the internet and deeply dreaded going in to work.
And, as much as I know tonight is going to be busy, I want to shoot myself in the foot rather than go in tomorrow. Pizza Hut + Super Bowl = Total, Unending Insanity.

The In Dreams shawl's first clue came out yesterday, but I'm still waiting on my beads (had to choose between rent and knitting supplies last check, and a place to live serves me better than a pretty shawl) so I'm going to be a bit behind. But that's okay, it's not a race. I'll take my time and enjoy the project without working myself up into a tizzy trying to finish with everyone else.

Kobold has been pretty tame these last few days, which is a blessing. I don't think I could handle a berserking dog with my energy levels as depleted as they are.

Other than that, there's not much new to report, I'm afraid. Life is chugging on around me and I'm trying to just go with the flow.

At least I have off on Monday. Here's to a peaceful weekend for everyone. If you're the football-loving type, hope you enjoy the game. Take pity on your local food venues and please don't demand much of the workers. Their nerves will be unsteady as it is.
Pizza Hut is running commercials every half hour. I'm not kidding.

Sunny came home with a list of names
She didn't believe in transcendence.
'It's time for a few small repairs," she said.
Sunny came home with a vengeance.
~Shawn Colvin "Sunny Came Home"

2011-01-29T20:03:00.000-08:00

What is it about snow that seems to turn people into horrible, angry misers? It seems like the second there are snowflakes in the air, or on the ground, my customers fall immediately into two groups. Group A is comprised of the people who realize that yes, it's winter. Snow is going to happen. So what? It's the price you pay for living where you do. At least you get advanced warning. These are generally nice, understanding people.
Group B is made up of everyone else. These are the people who don't know how to handle their kids during a snow day, or who should probably be living somewhere tropical. They are constantly in a bad mood, and nothing anyone says or does will fix it.
There are a few rare cases that fall gracefully between the two, but they are not significant.

Wednesday night we got SNOW. Now, I hesitate to put that in capital letters because it was only about eight inches, and we've known it was coming for at least a week. But it turned into a huge disaster because no one believes the weather reports ever for some reason. Thursday, I ended up covering for the opening server (had to stay home with her kids for the snow day) and I worked from open (11 A.M.) to the normal pre-close shift, 9 P.M. That's a long day to be serving. And we got mobbed. The day wasn't so bad, since everyone was still digging out their driveways and getting themselves free. But round about 3:30, calls started to pour in for delivery and carry out. The dining room got hit about an hour later. And we were just busy. There was nothing to do but work, and we did. And we ran out of almost everything. The only reason I got to leave at 9 was because what else was there to do? We had medium thin crusts and large handtossed in limited supply. I did my sidework and left with a wad of tips that marked the day as thoroughly not worth my time.
Friday was more of the same, but since the truck got delayed by snow and we didn't get our regular shipment until today, we just ran out of things permanently. No wings, sorry. Oh, thin crust? I'm sorry, we're out. I hate to say this, but we're out of garlic bread. Would you like me to substitute two bread sticks to go with your pasta instead? Oh, uh... my manager just informed me that we actually just ran out of bread sticks...
Now, here are two examples of typical customer behavior. See if you can guess who belongs to which category of friendliness?

There were fifteen separate tables in the dining room at once, and that's almost full for us. Poor ServerK and I were the only waitresses, and we had to also split our time with the front counter and the phones. Before we sat our customers, we informed them that due to overwhelming business, even dine-in customers would be waiting from 45 minutes up to an hour from the time they place their orders for their food to come out. The ones who were okay with that we sat down and tried to take care of them to the best of our abilities. Some were nice, others were short-tempered. We dealt. A woman who had been waiting for her pizza (and updated on its status as often as was reasonably possible) came to the front counter, demanding the phone number for our corporate office. She'd been waiting 40 minutes, and where was her food? We're terribly sorry, but we've got twenty orders ahead of yours, and it's about to go into the oven. After that, it will be about twelve more minutes. That's just too long, this is ridiculous. Obviously we'd made some grievous error in judgment making our schedule, and we should have known we'd be this busy on a Thursday night. She is never coming back here again. And with that, she stormed out.

Friday night, I'm CSRing. The phones have been ringing off the hooks for three hours, and we're out of almost everything at this point. I get off the phone with an upset but reasonable customer, and stare down at the lines. "Who's on hold?" I ask. No one seems to know who or why they are on hold, but the newest girl who was running around helping everyone and training on the fly said she'd put the gentleman on hold about twenty minutes ago. I sighed, and picked up the line, expecting it to be dropped. "Thank you for waiting, this is Kate. How can I help you tonight?" The man on the other end paused for a second before I heard a long drawn-out "Wow... You guys must be busy!" I explained that we were experiencing more business than we were really staffed for, but we were trying our best and I was terribly sorry about him being on hold for so long. He said it was all right, he just wanted to order some pasta and a large pizza. I informed him that the wait for carryout orders was currently an hour, and that while we were out of large pan pizzas, I would gladly get the cooks to make two mediums for the same price (we will compromise for the customers who at least try to be civil to us). He said no, it was okay. He'd take one medium instead, two would be too much food. I quoted his order and his time, and as I thanked him, he thanked me instead and wished me good luck with the rush.

So that was a summary of my Thursday and Friday nights. Unfortunately for my faith in the goodness inherent in humanity, most of my customers fell into Group B. But the ones that qualified for A made the nights slightly more bearable, and I appreciate them constantly for it. I usually love snow, and generally speaking, I still do. I like hearing it hiss slowly to the ground, I like the sound-dampening effect it has. I enjoy running around in it with Kobold until we're both soaked and panting and ready to curl up on the couch under a blanket and watch TV. There is a child that dwells in my heart that giggles and brightens up a bit when it snows.
And then the adult that remembers she has to go to work and deal with Group B stomps on the child's hopes and dreams.

Today, Patrick and I took Kobold over to my parents' house and we ran around their back yard for about an hour. Because he's genetically designed to withstand cold and harsh weather (and probably because of his puppy personality) Kobold loves the snow. The best thing you can do with him is to make up big, loose snowballs and then throw them at him. He catches the snow, and then eats it. I was picking up sheets of snow from the picnic table and gently tossing them straight into his face and Kobold kept coming back for more, the wacko. We ran him around until the pristine snow in the yard was churned up all over and we were getting cold and wet. We traipsed back home, changed, relaxed for a little bit and then brought him out again, this time to the pet store.
Dog grooming is expensive, did you know that? It's worth it, though. Kobold goes to Petsmart every few weeks to get a bath, a trim, general maintenance (teeth, ears, paws, claws) and something they call the FURminator Shed-less treatment. This involves mysterious potions, sharp combs, a blood sacrifice to the god of fallen dog hair, and about thirty more dollars on the bill. The plus side to this is that Kobold genuinely does shed much less fur, and his hair becomes silky and smooth. The down side is that he comes home smelling like that fake vanilla sugar cookie scent, you know the one? It'll wear off soon, though, at least.

Here's hoping your weekend ends well, and with all the fun and joy a kid with a snow day can possibly muster.

恋はゲえムじゃないけど勝負を賭けて.
Let's make love tonight!
~Honey Bee "No Rock No Life"

Love isn't a game, but a victory you gamble on.
Let's make love tonight!

Warning: This Post Contains Vague Introspection and a Lot of Complaining About Stupid Things

2011-01-08T18:07:00.000-08:00

I must reiterate the title's warning, before you go on. Brace yourself. I feel sort of bad for writing about it, but I'd feel worse if I didn't say anything.

I work with a friendly bunch of people. With the exception of a few oddballs, most everyone currently employed at my store is talkative, helpful, friendly, and social, especially with each other. I would not classify this as a bad thing, really. They enjoy going out together, long-term friendships have been forged in the heat of a 450* oven, and everyone has stories.
Except for me.
I have long noticed that when everyone (read: three to five fellow employees) are making plans to go out, they ask just about everyone on shift (and quite a few not on) if they'd like to join.
Except for me.
Last night, four of my coworkers and an assortment of other friends went out to a local bar called Jerseys to hang out.
[I would like to clarify that "hang out" in this instance should be defined as "go drinking with a bunch of people you know and have lots of fun with each other while imbibing a large amount of alcohol". This is not, however, always the correct definition.]
They spent a good portion of tonight talking about it, while two others who were on shift were discussing a similar set up at another location.
I was standing around listening half-heartedly, because I had nowhere to insert a similar memory or story with any of them. I felt very left out, and that bothered me. I left the wait station to hang around the oven, because at least there no one usually bothers me unless they urgently need a pizza that they just put in an order for ten minutes ago and need immediately, even though it's going to be at least 15 minutes.

I have long suspected that I am not generally regarded as a fun person at Pizza Hut. I am tolerable and generally a pleasant and cheerful person with a few funny stories, but I think that no one can imagine me doing anything besides going home and going to bed at the end of the night. And that is a shame, because that is not what my life consists of.
While I do not go out ever other night of my life and drink to get drunk, I do like going out. I even enjoy having a drink or two. I guess because I've said I don't want to get drunk (always followed promptly by: "but I've had a few good drinks before") everyone thinks that I don't want to go out.
They are wrong, and it kind of hurts.

It took me a while to figure out exactly what I was bothered by.
At first, I thought it was because I felt so left out. Not quite as far as unwanted, but perhaps... more like I'm some sort of orbiting moon (or a Kuiper Belt Object). I'm there, but at a distance and no one takes me seriously or thinks of me. And that kind of hurts, because the next feeling after that is that I'm not worth the effort.
Patrick suggested I try dropping some subtle hints, but at this point I'd feel pretty stupid doing that. For one, I'm not that good at subtle. I never have been. And two, it wouldn't be their idea; it would be a sort of oh-we-forgot-you-well-okay-but-don't-be-a-stick-in-the-mud invite. Or, even worse, if I outright expressed my feelings I'd probably get a pity invite. And that would just be devastatingly insulting. Another co-worker to whom I divulged my feelings suggested that I join in the conversation with a few drinks that I like, or perhaps a bar that I've visited that was particularly good. The problem with that is that most of the drinking my friends and I do is generally and someone or other's apartment; we usually don't go out specifically just to get drinks.
But thank you for the suggestion, maybe eventually I'll go with it. I've put up with this feeling for two years or so out of my employment, so I'll just deal. Plus that's almost exclusively how I felt in high school (minus the drinking). I'm used to being the odd one out, this is nothing new.

And then I realized what exactly was irritating me. All that stuff about being left out and all, that was part of it. But the majority of the problem was that I feel like I shouldn't let it get to me. I'm used to it after all. Deep down, I think that I should be this wall of uncaring brush-it-off-ness that just dances through life without letting any troubles weigh me down. I've had enough experience pulling that veneer off in school, I should be capable of doing it at work, too.
Obviously I am not.
I am not very good at expressing feelings such as this exclusion to other people, especially when they themselves seem so oblivious to it. I don't want an invitation out of pity, because that would be injurious to my pride. "Oh, poor Kate doesn't have any friends. Well, we'll let her come along and we'll just ignore her the whole time, and then maybe she won't want to come again." That imagined scenario roars through my head every time I ponder speaking out. On the other hand, I'm afraid of outright rejection. "What? Who wants to go out with you?"
So, I stand still. I stand still when I am fairly aching to yell.

And I think I've had just about enough.

(But probably not, I'm not an aggressive person in most respects.)

Can you hear the calling of the raving wind and water?
We just keep dreaming, of a land 'cross the river.
We are always on the way to find the place we belong
Wandering to nowhere, we're paddling
Down the raging sea...
"To Nowhere"~Yuki Kajiura

The Purge, A (Blurry) Picture-Story

2011-01-05T18:46:00.000-08:00

Once Upon A Time...

There was a girl, who lived with a boy. They were neither of them terribly organized people but the girl saw to it that their home stayed relatively clean, as long as you ignored the dirty laundry on the bedroom floor from time to time.

But one day, she went to open the closet under the stairs (which she dubbed 'The Harry Potter Cupboard') to look for something and was quite surprised. She'd known that the closet was a cluttered mess, filled with remnants from their move a year ago, but this was astonishing.
The girl carefully tied her hair back and put on her headphones, choosing music that would motivate her while she undertook this massive task. The boy would not be home from work for some time still, and so began to empty the closet.

When everything was spread out upon the floor, the girl began to sort through it. It took two entire hours of un-boxing, careful examination, and re-boxing, but she finally had everything ready to go back in.
She was ashamed to say that seventy percent of the mess was woolen products and their accompanying equipment.

Fifteen minutes later, the girl had put all of the boxes and other things back into the Harry Potter Cupboard. And as she stood back and admired a job well done, she sneezed. But it was the sneeze of a well-cleaned and newly organized closet, and somewhere deep in the mystical brain that all storage places contain, the closet laughed.

It would not stay clean for long, it never did.

The End

(That trash bag isn't trash, it's stuffed animals that I am too attached to to get rid of, but have no place to put them.)

And that was pretty much how I spent my day. I stripped the tree and took down the decorations, and boxed everything up for storage in the Harry Potter Cupboard. The apartment seems bare and empty now, but we will adjust to the space again quickly. The snowflakes on the windows are still up, since they are for winter, and so are the snowflake lights in the windows and around the kitchen. I will take them down closer to spring, when the threat of snow is slightly lessened. (We have gotten a foot of snow in April before.)

Patrick and I took my parents out to dinner at Red Lobster. They are always helping or feeding or buying us things, and we wanted to do something nice in return as a thank-you. Dinner was lovely and as usual, my mom and I tended to dominate the conversation.
It's a Wood Woman Thing, when we get together, we talk. A lot.

Colleen, Jim's sister, is coming down tomorrow for a sushi date with me, and I am looking forward to it. I hardly ever get to see her, and Coll is such a fun person. We have wild conversations about the strangest things. Also, where Colleen and I go, sushi happens.

My mother has signed me up for Susan Pandorf's In Dreams myster shawl KAL, and purchased my yarn to go with it. It was a gift, apparently. I won't complain, the yarn is a beautiful coppery color. Alpaca and silk.
I told Patrick he wasn't allowed to touch it. When I got it home, though, he felt up my yarn and then--be still my beating heart--he sniffed it. Yes, Patrick smells yarn, just like my mom and (apparently) many other knitters. He is already making eyes at it. The man might not be able to sit and knit for long, but he recognizes good fiber when he sees it.
But that doesn't mean I'll let him touch it again.

Tabibito-tachi ga utau,
mishiranu uta mo,
natsukashiku kikoete kuru yo
tada kimi to iru to.

Tabi no Tochuu ~Natsumi Kiyoura

The song that travelers sing,
Though I don't know it,
It sounds familiar to me
As long as I'm with you.

Bearing the Winterlong

2011-01-01T18:39:00.000-08:00

The week between Christmas and the New Year has flashed by in a haze of warmth, love, family, and work. We have been twice as busy at Pizza Hut as normal, and contrary to what you may be thinking GM seems to be the only person surprised by this, if his schedule was anything to judge by. We've had another person unexpectedly jump ship (read: stop showing up, and therefore quit), but we've picked up two more drivers (one is Maverick, he says his parents pretty much named him straight from Top Gun) and, despite fervent pleas, no counter help. The Waitresses are not happy.
Christmas was a wonderful day, and Patrick and I spent a fair amount of time on the road between families, though we didn't mind too much. I got a big stock pot, so that I can make chicken and dumplings (I previously did not have a pot big enough). Patrick got a car jack, he was very pleased. Emily has sworn it will not happen again. I also got a ton of yarn from Jim's sister Colleen, who very deeply questioned my mother behind my back about what to get for me. And, because apparently it screamed out to my mother for me, I got a Halo edition of Risk. I am making plans to get a few friends together to play, perhaps next week. We shall see.
It was straight back to work after Christmas Day, and the snow started falling halfway into my shift. I left early, around 1:30, and already the roads were dangerous. Our poor drivers, I felt so bad for them.
New Year's Eve was also spent at work, although we were so slow I got out at 8 rather than 10 (because CSRs are expensive on the labor charts) and managed to make it to my Uncle's house with Patrick to ring in the new year with horns, pots, and wooden spoons.
And, once again, it was right back to work today for more CSRing joy. Last night I got a job title upgrade, and now I am no longer a "CSR" but now I clock in under "Dispatch". What this really means is that pay stays the same (though the computer thinks I should be getting tips) but now I have the added ability of assigning and returning delivery drivers. This takes a small load from the managers, and lumps it on top of me. I don't mind, really. When I've been standing at the oven for three hours, I'll take any excuse to move away for a few seconds.

Did you know that bullfrogs are cannibalistic? (I know, I'm great at segues) They are. Apparently. Adults acutely so. I found (though extensive online research) that as long as the tadpoles and young frogs have enough sustenance to keep themselves alive, adult bullfrogs can survive entirely on their own young. Since females lay up to 20,000 eggs approximately three times a year, I can see how cannibalism isn't such a bad way to go, but...
Tim ate Samson!
I was going to feed by amphibian trio last night (I fish out Hrairoo and Samson to feed them separately so Tim doesn't steal their crickets) and I realized that I was missing a frog. After carefully removing all the bits and bobs from the tank, all that was left was an inch and a half of vaguely murky water and two frogs. I really was missing one.
Samson was always the master of hiding, so at first I was a little surprised, and thought maybe he'd been in one of the plants I pulled out and he'd gotten removed accidentally. But no, he was well and truly gone. Patrick and I checked around on the floor and under the dresser and radiator vent, thinking perhaps he'd accidentally escaped somehow. No little froggy corpse presented itself. So, after a quick question to my dad (who didn't know), I poked around on google.
Bullfrogs will eat practically anything they can fit into their mouths: birds, lizards, fish, turtles, different frogs... but especially other bullfrogs. A study done in an Arizona habitat revealed that most of the, uh, biological matter found in adult bullfrog intestines was, in fact, other bullfrogs. In the wild they eat almost constantly. And seeing as how Samson was only about 1.5 times bigger than the crickets I feed to Tim, I have to admit that I'm not too surprised that Tim turned his hungry little eyes on poor Samson. So I have resolved to give Tim an extra cricket every other day (he normally gets one a day) to try to curb his cannibalistic tendencies. Hrairoo, on the other hand, is getting two crickets a day in an effort to bulk him up a bit. Perhaps I'll start getting the little ones dusted...
Dusting crickets just means that they get brushed with a calcium-enriched supplement powder to help improve your pet's diet.
Speaking of crickets, this batch chirp. A lot. This is new to me, all of my previous crickets were the silent, rustling type. Tim has also taken to croaking randomly, though as he's still only two inches long, his voice is pretty high-pitched.

Kobold has been thoroughly enjoying the snow, though it is rapidly disappearing. He bounds through it like a rabbit, and then chases after the bits his paws throw up. And, since this throws up more bits, he chases those too. The best way to play with him in the snow is to throw a snowball in his face, he loves it. Weirdo.

Here is to everyone who made my 2010 wonderful, and here is to the hope that there will be even more people on that list for 2011.

I'll never say goodbye to our pride forever.
And I feel like them, but I don't know why.
I'll never say goodbye 'cause I can't forget her.
but I feel like them, but I don't know why.

"Winterlong" ~Beat Crusaders

Children Carry Through the Streets a Brilliant Painted Star...

2010-12-23T19:55:00.000-08:00

My family has a lot of Christmas traditions, and some of them can be rather strange to outsiders (read: Non-Woods). For example, on Christmas Eve when my father begins to set up the lights for the tree, he plugs in a tangled strand and then throws them haphazardly onto the tree and proudly declares that he's done. This happens every year, without fail.
Another one is the Starship Enterprise Rap. My mother has an electronic ornament for the tree that is a model of the Enterprise's Shuttlecraft. When you press a button on the bottom, Spock proclaims, "Shuttlecraft to Enterprise, Shuttlecraft to Enterprise. Spock here. Happy holidays, live long, and prosper." We press the button repeatedly and at varying intervals to get something kind of like, "Shuttlecra-shutt-shuttle-shuttlecraf to enterprise-shuttlecraft-shuttle-shuttle craft to enterprise, shuttlecraft to enterprise. Spock here-shutt-" until my mom is nearly pulling out her hair and swears that if we break her ornament (a favorite) that we will most certainly die.
Decorating cookies, as my mom has already described, is a deeply creative endeavor. When my sisters and I were little we made fairly normal cookies that we would now consider boring. As we aged, our creations became more and more ridiculous until we had spreads of ninjas and amputees and bloody, arrow-riddled reindeer. My poor mother takes all this in stride, and we just don't leave those cookies out for Santa.
One of my favorites that my mother still keeps up is the Advent Calendars. Advent calendars are plastic mold sheets filled with 24 little chocolates (some years they taste more like chemicals than others, but that's part of the charm) that are boxed in a suitably decorative box with little perforated numbered windows. Every day starting on December first, you open a window and get a little chocolate. It's a great way to count down to Christmas Eve (the last chocolate you get) even though now that I'm older and busier around the holidays I usually forget to collect my little treat. At the end of the week I have a little handful of forgotten chocolates that I gathered all at once.
And, even though this will be my second Christmas on my own, my mom still got me an Advent Calendar this year.

Christmas has never been a terribly religious thing for me, though I don't begrudge others their beliefs or traditions. You just won't see me getting up at 6AM to go to church... I'll be heading downstairs for hot cocoa and warm, buttered babka as we settle in to open presents. I wonder who will win Christmas this year? (I won the year I made my father cry.)

Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope that your weekend is wonderful and full of love and joy whether you celebrate this holiday or not. We are all blessed with family and friends, and this is as good a time as any to remind ourselves of that.

'Cause you don't have to be an angel
To sing harmony
And you don't have to be a child
To love a mystery
And you don't have to be a wise man
On bended knee
The heart of this Christmas is in you
And me
~The Night Before Christmas

Intent Isn't Worth a Dime...

2010-12-15T15:04:00.001-08:00

I woke up this morning intending to do the several loads of laundry that have piled up. I intended to clean the kitchen and at least wipe out the bathroom. I'd seriously intended to vacuum the front room. I fully intended to bundle up like I used to (years of playing in the snow without snow pants taught me how to do this effectively) and take Kobold on a nice long walk to get some of his winter-frustrated energy out. I intended to cook a really spectacular dinner for Patrick when he got home from class. I had a truly excellent Christmas-themed mini-adventure all planned out to run at D&D tonight (involving gnomes, minotaur, and copious amounts of alcohol).

What really happened was that I woke up this morning, stumbled into the bathroom, fed Kobold, and then bundled up a bit to take him out. From there, I sat down at the computer and ate breakfast. I did my normal email-webcomic-blog routine. I putzed around on facebook for a little while chatting with Bob about various things.
I did not get up and collect the laundry. I did not make the kitchen sparkly, nor did I even think about wiping that little bit of toothpaste from yesterday out of the sink.
No. I sent out a text message to my AlTawd group saying that there would be no D&D tonight, as I was not feeling up for it.
Then, I sat down on the couch with some knitting and watched Mythbusters.

Dinner tonight is leftovers.

I am seriously drained from work, though Monday was blessedly slow and I could take my time doing my job, rather than running around like a psychopath. I am sure that this weekend will outright kill me, and Christmas Eve is looming over us all. I'm sure that even though we're only open for seven hours on Christmas Eve (we close early at 6) just about every staff member will be scheduled, and we will probably be incapacitated with business.

The holiday spirit had eluded my grasping, frost-bitten hands up until a few days ago, when I was doing the dishes and put on some Christmas music to listen to. I had just roasted a chicken and mashed some potatoes (with peas for me and spinach for Patrick) and was cleaning up from the endeavor. It was hugely successful and Patrick said that I should not cook like this very often because he was sure he would ravish me with kisses for treating him so good.
So there I am, listening to The Chieftain's version of A Boar's Head Carol, and it struck me that I wanted it to be Christmas. The feeling was a long time coming, partly due to money and time constraints this year, but it was there. Patrick and I have our tree now, and it is sitting primly next to the front windows (with glowing snowflake lights on them) waiting to be decorated on Christmas Eve.
There's no particular reason that I want to wait, it's just that I always have. I like seeing the tree in its natural (read: undecorated) state, and the excitement of waiting to do the decorating (I have tinsel and jelly belly candycanes) is great. When I was a very young child, Santa Claus would decorate the tree on Christmas Eve when he came to give us our presents. So, once we were in bed asleep, my parents would do everything so that when we came downstairs (at 6 A.M.) the living room was suddenly a magical place. I have lots of wonderful Christmas memories, and some not so wonderful.
There was Bob, the Boomerang Tree. And the year Emily got her conductor's baton. The year Emily, my mom, and I were all sick and Em had to force me out of bed to open presents. I got a gift early that year: I giant stuffed bear (about half my size at the time) because my coughing was so bad that my mom wanted me to have something soft to hug while I hacked up a lung. His name is Theodore Edward Bear, and I still love him very much. To this day he is my sick-time bear, and he always keeps me company when I am plague-ridden. Good thing Ted E. Bear can't contract my illnesses.

The boar's head in hand bear I
Bedecked with bays and rosemary
And I pray you, my masters, be merry
Quot estis in convivio (as many as are in the feast)
Boar's Head Carol (traditional English Christmas Carol)

Toiling Through the Ages, Making Toys on Garnished Wages...

2010-12-12T08:30:00.000-08:00

When I woke up this morning, I felt as though several burly men had carefully and precisely beat the ever-loving heck out of every part of my body. I'm achy, I'm stiff, and I'm sore. Work has been absolutely brutal for the last few weeks since it's almost Christmas and Walmart is right behind us. On Saturdays and Sundays I CSR, which means I am chained to the oven and do nothing but cut pizzas. This makes me sweaty (two ovens blowing 450* air into my face for hours), bad tempered (I don't know how, but our cooks just can't make two consecutive orders correctly), and exhausted (lots of lifting and upper-body movement). ManagerE and I split the ovens between us last night and we were still getting our asses kicked. It was just that bad.
It was so bad, in fact, that during one of our very few slightly-less-busy-breaks, Matt pulled me aside and said, "Good job tonight, Kate." That's big. That means something, the last time I got that was on Valentine's Day when I stayed for three hours after my shift ended to help everyone out.

There has been next to no knitting. I'm so tired by the time I get out of work that I just come home, shower, putz on the computer for a few minutes and then go to bed. It's been a rough few weeks and it's only going to get worse. I've got another 7-hour shift on the cut table today, and hopefully maybe I'll get out on time tonight. If I'm really, really lucky. Then I open tomorrow (thank god it's a short shift) and I'll be able to just relax.

I'm exhausted. Everyone is exhausted. This is going to be a tough few weeks, especially between Christmas and New Year's, when everyone has off. Oh dear...

I make toys but I've got aspirations
Make some noise, use your imagination
Girls and boys: before you wish for what you wish for
There's a list for
Who's been naughty or nice but consider the price to an elf
~Barenaked Ladies "Elf's Lament"

Can You Believe Me?

2010-12-06T15:15:00.000-08:00

Pet update time! You guys haven't heard a pet story in a while, so let me tell you a bit about Flo.
She has grown slightly since I got her, to fit her little 1.5 gallon tank. She's a light golden-gray color now, Roxie you were right: she did change as she got older. Her tank, a simple affair designed for minimal hassle, was not designed to have a filter. Goldfish are messy fish. Do you see the point I'm getting at? I was cleaning the sides of her tank once or twice a week to keep them from getting too gross, and that was a bit much for me.
"You should get an algae eater," Patrick suggested. This surprised me, since I had to struggle with him to get Flo in the first place.
"But her tank is only big enough for one small goldfish, if I got another fish I'd have to get a bigger tank."
"It was just a suggestion."
"Well, maybe we can find a tank that's slightly larger."
So we went to the local PetSmart to look around. Our friend Dan works there in the Dog Day Camp area, but we get the frog's crickets there about once every week and a half, so the people in the fish section (where the crickets are) recognize us.
And so I got a plecostomus, a kind of totally non-agressive algae eater (I feared for little Flo's life with a big one) that just sticks itself to something and sucks its way along. His name is Randolph. But the next biggest tank available was a 5 gal., and with just Flo and Randolph in it, it was far too empty.
So, meet the crew:

This is Rodger the koi, and probably about three times the size of Flo. I hope he doesn't pick on her too much. He is shy, though, so his picture is a little out of focus because I had to sneak up on him around the aquarium plants.

This here is Randolph, the first pleco. He's a little over an inch long, and has a very attractive spotted design. His favorite spot so far is one of the plants that I got that has large, flat leaves. It's kind of fun to watch him slowly move his way along the underside of one of the leaves.

This is Hannah, the second pleco. She's about two and a half times bigger than Randolph, but as I said earlier: these fish are about as non-agressive as you can be without being dead or paralyzed. That tan-ish smear on the left under the thin green leaf is Flo, hiding from the camera. She is still incredibly shy and I couldn't even manage to sneak up on her (she's smaller than Rodger and so is harder to zoom in to).

And so, now there are two aquariums on my dresser. The frogs in one and the fish in the other, and the little cricket container between them. I toyed briefly with the thought of getting a little tiny crab (he was about the size of my thumb nail) but getting Rodger totally killed that idea. I didn't want to have to fish little crab-limbs out of the water when Rodger decided he was hungry.

Patrick finally heard back from the Charity Care program at the hospital (his E.R. bills came back to us at almost $9,000) and he only has to pay 20% of the total, Charity Care will take responsibility for the other 80%. Patrick had his fingers crossed for them to cover 100%, but 80% is nothing to scorn, not when it reduces our bill to about $1,600 instead of 8-something.

I know it is December, and I know that Christmas is about three weeks away. I realize that it is winter and therefore I should not be surprised by the strength of the wind or the biting ability of the cold air in the frosty mornings. But just a couple of weeks ago I was prancing around outside in just a hoodie, and my body was quite surprised to suddenly be wrapped up and bundled to protect from the cold. My mind keeps flashing back to the summer weekend in Wildwood, when sitting still to enjoy the cool sea breeze was the only way to stay comfortable.
Here's to keeping your inner summer strong.

Koko Attaka na Umi da yo...*

2010-11-18T18:04:00.000-08:00

Okay. So, we're standing out front of a reportedly ancient ruin that seems like it may have once been a monastery or holy place of some sort, if the symbol on the ground is what I think it is. We're trapped here and Ben has just disappeared. He is magically gone and Bob wants to kick the crumbling wooden door in.
Is any one else as worried about this as I am? Ben is gone now and we are in a completely different world where we don't belong. Alas, no, apparently not. Bob really wants to kick in the door and Patrick is going along with the idea.
Lovely.
Earlier in the day... Well, night, I guess. It was night at home, but it's midday-ish here, I guess time doesn't sync up the same. I didn't think that Bob would really cause a resonance cascade, let alone that it would somehow teleport us into the D&D world some how.
So, earlier in the, uh... Before all this happened I was pretty sure things like this didn't happen. And now we've ended up in Othello and already we have wrought havoc in a sneaky way. That poor port guard was convinced to turn to a life of crime awfully easily. And really, the guys at the bar didn't deserve to get so thoroughly killed like how the guys left them. I stayed out of the violence and kept watch outside, but even still... the guards here are stupid. I managed to convince one I was his distantly related cousin on vacation with some friends.
And don't get me started on them looting the corpses. Ben looted the cellar and made off with a cart and quite a lot of alcohol. And then we sold it! We set up a stall in the market because my, ahem cousin was suggestible and got us a spot. And we sold the alcohol that Ben had just stolen. For exorbitant prices! One guy gave us a ton of equipment as long as we gave him enough drink to make that dwarven chick over there look good.
And it worked! We are altogether so conniving and convincing (and a low-cut shirt on me isn't such a bad incentive to buy) that we are selling these folk completely shitty alcohol at prices that liquid gold wouldn't sell for.
In the end, we kept ten bottles of what was left (for trading and drinking purposes) and hit up the armor weapon shop. Which is also the fighter's guild. At least we purchased our weapons and armor legitimately.
And then we left Othello behind us. Quickly, just in case.

Three hours later, we are here. In this crumbling ruin with the smashed door that Bob has just kicked in so hard that it flew across the room and shattered against the far wall. And yes, they are intimidating the bookish guy who obviously was only hired to be an extra meat shield. Poor guy. Lucky us, we figured out the secret door into the basement. Bob hazed the guy a bit more and then stole his translation book.
On our way down, we broke a piece of a statue and got a holy symbol that has no meaning to us. And then we set some spiders on fire, and looted what was probably a study. We got some interesting journals recounting times during the Race War** (meaning this place is at least 500 years old). And we found a throne room. Killed some skeletons.
Still no sign of Ben. Where has he gone?
And then, as Bob and Patrick are fighting over who gets to sit in the dilapidated old throne, we hear a voice. Ben comes in like nothing has happened, and suddenly everything is back to normal. Well, as normal as it can be for four people who have been accidentally absorbed into a world that two of them created on a whim.

And that is a summation of the first two AlTAWD sessions. I have picked up a campaign every other wednesday now, titled AlTAWD (Alternate TAWD). The idea is that we have been sucked somehow into the disc world Bob and I created for our TAWD campaign and, uh... we don't know how to get home.
What I have learned about Bob, Patrick, Ben and I is this: if we are given very little to no incentive, alcohol, and/or an annoying NPC, we will start indiscriminately killing and stealing. Seriously. Our first ten minutes into this new world and we're already lying and convincing the severely under-paid port guardian to turn to a life of crime.
And it worked.
This seems like it may be portentous, but of what I am not at all sure.

There has been no knitting. Work has been getting so thoroughly slammed that by the time us waitresses are halfway through Saturday Night (have already dealt with Friday and Saturday morning) we are all seriously considering walking out together. Matt is in trouble with the DM for not having enough staff to run the store, and I take a grim satisfaction knowing that. He has picked up another cook and a CSR/waitress is started her training yesterday. I hope that he plans on getting more people in, because that is NOT enough.

Mukashi minna hitotsu datta sekai
Oide attaka na sora dayo
Long ago, everyone in the world was one
Come on and step into this warm sky
~ Aimo -Tori no Hito- (Megumi Nakajima)

*"We are in a warm ocean..." (it's a line from the end-quote song)
** The Race Wars are a fictional event in the TAWD universe. As you may imagine, it involved every race against each other in the country of Wulfheim, and it lasted for many years and left behind lots of old bases and secret hideouts amongst lesser-traveled areas. The Race Wars ended approximately 500 years ago.

2010-10-30T16:38:00.001-07:00

It has been an eventful week for me.

Monday was plain enough: work, dinner, D&D. We are on a Halloween-themed adventure right now, it's pretty interesting.

Tuesday started slowly, I had the day off so I slept in until about 8. I was in the middle of having an online conversation with Bob when Patrick walks in the door around 10:45.
"Don't tell me you got robbed again."
"No, I just don't feel too good."
"Your stomach hurts?"
"Yeah, I'm feeling kinda nauseous."
Patrick took a nap until around 12, when I woke him up and made him eat some soup. He was feeling okay, but not good, until somewhere around 5, when he left the couch suddenly and set up camp in the bathroom. Half an hour later, I heard him start throwing up. Violently. Patrick throwing up sounds more like he's forcing everything out and choking on it at the same time. It's almost a wet coughing sound.
I do what I can, and call Caryn to tote me off to the store so I can get him things to make him feel better like Pepto Bismol, crackers, and gatorade. Around 8:30, his mom comes over to check on him and make sure we don't need anything.
9:00 rolls around, and Patrick is still throwing up regularly.
"Your mom thinks you should call a doctor."
"I feel like I'm going to pass out."
"The E.R. it is, then."
I called my dad and he came to watch Kobold while Patrick's mom took us over to the hospital. When he got set up in a bed, he squeezed all the blood out of my hands while the very nice young nurse drained a lot of blood out of his arm. And not too long after that, once he'd been hooked up with some IV fluids along with Pepsid and Zophran, he started to feel a little better. At least, he didn't feel like he was going to start puking up bile (there wasn't much left to empty out of his stomach by now). His whole body hurt, and he still had a hell of a headache. The doctor who was overseeing him decided to get a CAT scan done, so I sat there and forced him to drink the contrast, which apparently tasted like total crap. That was around 11.
"Two hours for the contrast to be effective, and then another hour for cat scan results."
"It's going to be 1 before you even go for the scan."
Monica (Mrs. Lickfield prefers I use her first name) went home for a bit, leaving me instructions to to call her when we got results back. At this point, we were still waiting to hear what was up with all the blood they took. After a bag and a half of fluid, Patrick finally had to pee, so I helped him up and walked him over to the bathroom (only five blessed feet away) and waited while he filled up his little cup, and then escorted him back to the bed.
By the time 1:15 hit, a nice, large man came to escort Patrick to his cat scan, and I was left to sit by myself in the middle of the hallway, falling asleep over my frantically knitting hands. He was back after about ten minutes, and I called Monica to let her know that Patrick had just had his cat scan. Hopefully we'd get results in an hour.
She showed up about half an hour later and sat with us, which was a blessing because Patrick was drifting in and out of a doze, and I was very near that point so it was nice to have someone to help keep me up. It was about 2:30 before anyone came over to say that his blood tests were normal with a slightly high white blood cell count, which wasn't much to worry about. The thing they were afraid of was his appendix, which turned up totally normal on the cat scan.
We were released not too soon after, and got home around 3:45. A.M. I had been up for almost 24 hours straight at this point.
I got Patrick into bed and we both passed out.
Wednesday, Kobold got me up at around 8 to be fed and walked. I was exhausted still, and he wouldn't let me go back to sleep. So, I got up and played around online for a bit, until around 11 when I woke Patrick up. I made him some more soup and he slurped it slowly in bed with the TV on, watching his favorite anime. I sat out on the couch and played video games. After a while he came out to join me. His stomach wasn't too bad any more, but he was still very stiff and sore, and extremely tired. The day was spent being lazy and recouperating. Unfortunately, I did not get to take a nap.
Thursday found us both in almost the same situation, except that I wasn't quite as tired since I'd gotten most of a full night's sleep. Patrick wasn't feeling quite as bad. In fact, he felt well enough to take me grocery shopping so I wasn't starving since I wouldn't eat his soup.
Friday we both had work and Patrick swore up and down he'd take care of himself. I got my butt kicked at work, and made next to nothing out of it.
Today, I had work again and made more and Patrick feels almost back to normal. He got me a pumpkin to carve and I made it into a pikachu.
And now, for pictures to end the post.

Ever-expanding...

2010-10-23T18:23:00.000-07:00

I have a new animal member of my family, although she is aquatic. Flo is a feeder goldfish, and I really don't expect her to live that long (feeder fish aren't bred really to be kept like normal fishy pets) but she is all dark on top and silvery on the bottom, and she stood out in that big tank of orange and pearl. I had to have her.
Patrick thinks I have enough pets, so he objected but I smiled very cutely and bugged the hell out of him. I claimed that since Kobold was also his, he only counted as half a pet. And the frogs were so small, they only counted as half a pet each. That left me with two. He relented after several minutes.
Flo's in a tank all by herself, because I had a gut feeling that my fatty bullfrog Tim might try and eat her if I added a little more water to the frog tank and let her loose in there. She is, however, sitting next to the Frog tank and I feel that I made the right choice separating her. For the first fifteen or so minutes they were together, all three frogs sat along the side of the tank that she was near and watched. They stared with a ferocity I don't think I've ever seen in a frog. It was very fascinating.
Now she's become common place and they're more worried about the crickets I drop in for them.
Tim is a fatty, he really is. If I'm not careful when I feed the frogs, he will go around and eat all the other's crickets, too. I might just start getting big crickets for him at this rate, I know he can eat them. Hrairoo is still a bit small, and he's not as skillful and ninja-like as Tim; he sometimes misses his prey on the first try and knocks them into the water where they are likely to drown if I don't help them back up onto rocks. They won't eat dead insects, so I try not to waste them if I can help it.
Samson is still a master of disguise, though since I have recently re-arranged their tank, I know where all his hiding places are and can probably find him within ten minutes. Previously, about a third of the tank was built up with rocks and rubble I'd picked up from outside and washed off, so that they could be out of the water. But as that was hard to keep clean, I bought an aquarium decoration that is just a (plastic molded) rock-thing base with a few pillars and then a rock-thing roof. This serves a double purpose. It de-clutters the tank a bit, and provides them shade from the light if they so wish it. The base is mostly under water, and the top is out of it, so they can be at whatever moistness level they want. Then I filled in a bit more with some of the smaller, easier to clean rocks. They also have some aquatic fern-plants in there too, along with a low-lying fake one for sheltering in.
Flo is shy, and won't let me take her picture. You just have to imagine a slim, sleek fish about two inches long, with a shark-like iridescent tail and fins. She is a dark silvery-gray on top, fading suddenly to a lighter silver-gray on the bottom, with small black eyes and a bit of pink around the gills.

Patrick is playing a game for me, which is something I rarely ask him to do since it hurts my pride when I have such a hard time with something and he just breezes through it. But the final boss fight of .Hack//Infection seems to be impossible for me. I have tried this fight perhaps three dozen times and fifteen different ways, but I can never beat it. Patrick has already gone through the .Hack series, and can apparently handle himself. He's doing better than I ever have.

The wellness fair with my mom was fun, and one of her coworkers has contacted me on facebook so I can help her with her knitting, and she can keep me updated with her progress. The woman is very nice, and hails from Hong Kong. She told us that she used to have to bring knitting home as homework, and her mother would do it for her! My mom said that was cheating, and I told her it was so much easier than she thought, so she sat down and I taught.
I think I've earned my knitting proselytization badge.

Well, I'm going to go cheer Patrick on and watch as he accomplishes something I can not. I suppose this is what he feels like watching me knit while he tries to, as well.

If we gentles have offended
Think but this and all is mended:
That you have but slumbered here
Whilst these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme
No more yielding than a dream.
Gentles, do not reprehend.
If you pardon, we will mend...
~Puck, "A Midsummer Night's Dream"

2010-10-13T11:33:00.000-07:00

Hmm.... It's only a month since my last post. That's nothing.

Honestly, I have been really, really lazy these last few weeks, and what free time I've had has mostly been spent on video games and reading. Here is an abbreviated list of what's been going on:

-WalMart is opening a new super-store behind us and it's ruining our parking lot and screwing up our business
-WalMart employees are rude, demanding, ignorant, and tip poorly
-Two new waitresses are eating up hours and not really doing their work well
-Delivery has started and no one was ready for it
-3/4 of our staff has learned to take delivery totally on the fly, most of us still don't get what we're supposed to do and it's been four days
-Knitting is progressing very, very slowly
-This upcoming Wednesday is the first session of my very own D&D campaign
-Andy Serkis is now listed amongst my many heroes
-Enslaved: Odyssey to the West is my current favorite video game (youtube preview link)
-I have frogs now
-Crickets are kinda icky

The work stuff is just... overwhelming and so I will skip out on talking about that and instead move to the stuff that doesn't cause me to go into a Hulk-like rage at the mere thought of it.

Recently, we have had decidedly fall-ish weather, complete with inconsistent temperatures, excessive winds, and freak rain storms. Some of the more recent rains have worn deep ruts into my uncle's driveway, and one of my visits to monitor his offspring led us to talking about the young frogs that had taken to living into the rain-filled, two-and-a-half-feet deep pits in his driveway. I expressed a desire to have a frog again, and he offered to go out and catch some for me.
I was all for that.
So now, on my dresser I have a tank set up with three small frogs. If you know anything about frogs at all, two of them are bullfrogs and one is a carpenter frog. Samson (biggest, bullfrog), Tim (middle-ish, bullfrog), and Hrairoo (aka Fiver, smallest, carpenter). They're all about an inch and a half long, so if you know anything about frogs (especially bullfrogs, those suckers get huge), you'd know they're very young.
I've had them a few days now, but they haven't been eating the synthetic food I've put out, nor have they shown any interest in the bloodworms I supplied them with. So, worrying that they might not ever eat again EVER, I went back to the pet store and after a quick chat with another customer (who also has a much, much larger bullfrog her husband saved from a construction site) and some friendly advice from a worker, picked up a dozen baby crickets.
Me: So, I have these frogs, and they aren't eating.
Dude: It could be because they're wild, and they're a little freaked out about their environment change. Give them a few weeks to get used to things and they may get hungrier.
Me: Is there anything I can try in the mean time?
Dude: Well, they're pretty young so I'd say the little crickets are best. I mean, if they don't work you can try some flightless fruit flies, I don't think I've ever seen anything resist them.
Me: How many should I get, do you think?
Dude: Probably two or three per frog, and since they are still young you'll probably want to feed them once every other day. When they get older and bigger, and you move on to the bigger crickets you'll really only need to feed them maybe twice a week.
Me: Sweet deal, can I have a dozen of those little tiny jumping foodstuffs?
Dude: (laughs)

Patrick and I got home and dumped the little buggers (they really are tiny) in an old beta tank with some rocks and food and set them up next to the frog tank. Patrick caught some for me (I'll use tweezers when he isn't home, I can't stand to touch crickets) and we dropped them into the tank on the high ground, then stood back to watch.
Tim: I'm gonna eatcha.
Cricket: Ohhhhh no. Fuckfuckfuck.
Tim: Seriously, try and run. I'm gonna eat you so fast.
Cricket: I am totally safe on THIS side of the rock! He's on the other s--oh no.
Tim: (wicked fast reflexes and tongue action) You are tasty. Your friends are next.
Hrairoo was hiding under water, so I dropped one on a rock nearby and left him alone, and Samson was doing his thing somewhere I couldn't see him, so I just left a few extras in there for him and left them be.
When I got home last night, sitting on my laptop waiting for me was a copy of How to Train Your Dragon, a movie that I am ridiculously fond of. So tonight, Patrick and I curled up on the couch with our quilt (thanks, Roxie!) and ate dinner while we watched it. Patrick is playing Enslaved now, a game which I picked up recently and only just beat yesterday. He promised not to play it until I had beaten it, because he always finishes my games before I do, and it's depressing.

When I said knitting was going very, very slowly I meant it. I have some Christmas presents otn, and they are the only holiday gifts I think I will be making, though there may perhaps be some scarves in there somewhere or something. You never know.

Well, I'll end the post with some frog and dog pictures, I know how you've all missed them.

Left: Hrairoo. He's smaller than he looks, but likes to float just under the surface in the corner of the tank, all spread out.
Bottom: Tim likes to pose, but Samson is a little coward, you can see his face in the bottom right corner.

And Kobold has made a throne out of my clean clothing, that jerk.

I'm broke but I'm happy
I'm poor but I'm kind
I'm short but I'm healthy, yeah
I'm high but I'm grounded
I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed
I'm lost but I'm hopeful baby
What it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be fine fine fine
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving a high five
~Alanis Morissette "Hand in My Pocket"

Leaving the Pillar

2010-09-09T07:39:00.000-07:00

The last post I made about D&D was quite a while ago, and we have covered much ground since then. Literally and figuratively.

Skullcrusher Mountain was mostly a success, though Matthias was a huge detriment to our performance. I managed to only have to make one bluff check (to convince the audience the nonsense I was spewing was, in fact, the real line) and passed. Also, a female mountain giant in the audience was so impressed by my singing (I got the highest score out of the whole group) that she threw someone at the stage.
I'm assuming it was meant as a compliment.
From there, we used the audience as fuel for a ritual that opened a portal to the other side of the wall. So much for a continuing fanbase. It was about a week's trek to the Eastern Pillar from there, where we immediately noticed something amiss. Normally a pristine and blindingly pure white, this Pillar was being consumed by an ugly blackness that writhed and moved kind of like the pink slime from the Ghostbusters 2 movie. Not a party to be deterred by something that is potentially deadly, we made our way inside.
Bad idea.
The inside was literally crawling with this stuff. Eris tried to throw something at it, and it merely swallowed the bottle without any other effect. It was dark in there, very dark, and something was wrong with the gravity. And, right there before us, stood a man.
"Grandiose in stature, muscled from ages of combat. His skin is like slate or granite, both to the eye and to the touch, with no discernible face to be had, a ragged and disconnected black hood obscuring all but two ominous glowing eyes." (Bob's description to us during the session)
Here was Xen, the dragon of the Eastern Pillar. He said some awfully mean things to us and disappeared upwards. And, since we really didn't want to get absorbed by the horrible black goo that was reaching for us, we followed.
Now, mechanically, the Pillar was "fantastic terrain," i.e. terrain that is not restrained by normal magical or physical laws. Moving around the pillar was guided by force of will. Concentrate hard enough and you could float straight to the top. We opted not to do that and instead made our way between seemingly frozen chunks of rock and what almost looked like broken bits of building. We finally reached a large stone platform that appeared at one point to have been a city. There were buildings, made of black stone that seemed to have crumbled from age and begun falling. But it was as though this place was locked in time. It was crumbling, but nothing moved or fell, pieces of building merely floating next to the base which they were once part of.

Xen told us then about the taint that was slowly taking over this pillar. On the plate directly below us was a deep pit, reaching farther down than anyone could imagine, and it was full of things. These monsters are spreading, and even Xen does not know how to stop them. And, as he so bluntly put it, if he has no idea what to do, then we're twice as useless. In the mean time, he gives us the location to the next Book Marker, and leaves my comrades and I with a curiosity that cannot be withheld.
Enter Brand. Brand is a paladin from Nibelung, who wants what we want: the Marker locations. After a brief kerfuffle with him, Xen takes over the fight and sends us away, and we head upwards towards a hole in the pillar. On the outside, we find that the only way down is, well, down. Matthias rips off his turban and makes a sort of parachute out of it, and jumps. Eris, being a canny sort of rogue, jumps after him and latches on to his legs. Sel'zanath, not yet being of a level where he is granted wings, just jumps and slides down until he's close enough to the ground for his Winged Armor (a gift from Taelir) to slow his descent safely.
Me? I started climbing down with my barbed gloves (they double as light throwing weapons), but when we notice that the Horrible Black Stuff (tm) is following more rapidly than we'd previously thought, I hastily made a Religion and Diplomacy check to send off a suitable prayer to the god who watched this Pillar. Hephaestus, who is not so much fond of Kivati but is pretty neutral with Frejya (my two gods of choice), said, "Sure, kid, whatever," and created a stairway for me out of fragments of the pillar. I ran very quickly down.
Taelir just fell. But he has a Ring of Slowed Descent, so he didn't die.

We bunked for the night in a crevice at the base of a nearby hill, foraging enough food and wood to keep the night, with some extra wood to make a sort of door at the entrance. Good idea on our part, because the Assasicorn was in the area that night.
What's Assasicorn? In Germaly, there are three wandering fields of sentient corn known as Assasicorn. This corn will lull unwary travelers into a false sense of security, and just when the reach its depths... it strikes. The corn fires off like rockets into the bodies of the unwitting victims, and when the field moves on the next night, nothing is left but bones. Our door kept out the corn, but we still stationed a watch, just in case.

Now we're making the long journey to our next destination, the Burning Isles. This is Matthias' home, and he is very excited to return there. We are currently on a boat there, and all very nervous considering our luck with boats. The first one was sunk by James the Bitchin' Giant Squid, and the second one left port with a bunch of Nibelung soldiers on our tail. Fingers crossed this one makes it to the Isles safely.

"Reality is not for me, and it makes me laugh."
~Paul Simon

2010-08-31T16:08:00.000-07:00

So I just finished up my second bass lesson and already I am finding huge improvements in my playing. I also find things that I need to make improvements on, like using "finger fat" to hold the strings with my pinky, since I have a tendency to use only the tip. And I also need to remember that my right fingers stand up (play straight) rather than sit down (curling). This keeps the sound I make with the string more consistent and it will also sound fuller and deeper.
I have learned the intro and verse portions of Endless Possibility (picked) which is very very fast and is a good exercise to increase my skills with a pick. The intro and transition for the Reel Big Fish song "Dateless Losers" is also pretty fast, but fingered, and does a funny little jump around right before the verse that is part of my exercises for this week. I was complimented on my finger speed, which was pretty cool. I'm getting better at playing along with the music, and I am definitely looking forward to next week.

I cast on for a baby hat for Riley, Alyssa's daughter. If I have enough, I'm going to make a pair of baby socks. I'm planning on getting Alyssa to come for dinner next Wednesday night, since I have yet to see her or the baby and I am getting antsy to see the tiny little hands.

We've been pretty damn busy at work these last two weeks, and either I get all the cheapest jerks in NJ who all come in together, or everything is carry out and even though all my customers leave nice tips, there's so few it doesn't make a difference. I got turned down for another job because I wasn't fast enough, which sucks, because it's another waitressing gig at a good restaurant. I could use the tips.

Not perfect
Not too hip
But we need lovin' too
We are the dateless losers
Lonely until we die
So unappreciated
Why, oh, why why why?
~Reel Big Fish: Dateless Losers

2010-08-23T09:52:00.000-07:00

It's been quite a while since my last post, but I just haven't had too much to blog about. At least, not much I felt like writing about. I've been in kind of a creative slump for a while, so I haven't been doing much for the last week besides putzing around the interweb and playing video games.

I have, however, been picking up my bass regularly and at least making noise with it. I'm currently working on the song All the Small Things (youtube link) and trying to learn Heart Goes Boom! (lyrics/music link) which is from the previously mentioned show K-ON! For my birthday my parents are getting me bass lessons. I have my first one tomorrow to see if I like this guy Mom found. Hopefully it'll go well. He asked me to put together some music that I like so that he could start teaching me with something I enjoy. Part of what he teaches is how the bass works in conjunction with the other instruments, which should be interesting.
I've been trying to get Patrick over to his mom's regularly because she's supposed to be giving him lessons, but when he gets home from work he's just too lazy to do anything for the rest of the night. It's hard to get him out the door for D&D every week. Bob, who has large, thick fingers has been trying to find a way to work around that on a thin-necked guitar. He finds that he's often pressing more than one string when he shouldn't be, so he's having a bit of a hard time figuring out how to fix that. There's a lot of tips on the subject online. I actually have the opposite problem, my fingers are long and skinny. The bass strings, which are thicker and stronger than guitar strings need more finger strength to hold them down. For me, though, it's just a matter of building up strength in my left hand.

Knitting is pretty much completely stopped for now. I'll pick up my projects again in a day or two, but until I've trudged out of this slump I just don't feel like doing much.

beesu ga kanjin donna mono, hito datte
taishin kyoudo wa OK? tate ni yoko ni yusaburu yo
kidoairaku jazube no bodi ni zenbu watashi ga tsumatteru
shunkashuutou nijuuyojikan unaru haato wa mukyuu
bo boom boom boom boom!!
The bass is essential, no matter what or who it is
Is your earthquake resistance OK? You'll be shaken up and down, side to side
I'm packing all my feelings into the body of my jazz bass
Four seasons a year, 24 hours a day, my roaring heart never stops
Bo Boom Boom Boom Boom!!
Yoko Hikasa "Heart Goes Boom"

Brevity in an Blog

2010-08-12T13:02:00.000-07:00

Patrick got robbed at gunpoint on Tuesday at work. The guy had a shot gun. Luckily no one was hurt and the thief got away with a deposit.
I probably would have wet myself or puked or something. Apparently, all Patrick was thinking was, "God damn it, I don't want to deal with this right now."

Wildwood this weekend, can't wait for some vacation time.

Not much to talk about, really, besides that. Oh, and a new pet project of mine:
http://the-osp-project.smackjeeves.com/

Adulthood

2010-08-05T10:51:00.000-07:00

I was trolling around on the internet today looking for a good birthday-related quote to end my post with and found a few good ones, so I thought I'd share my favorites.

-Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened. ~Jennifer Yane

-Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself. ~Tom Wilson

-The secret to staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age. ~Lucille Ball

-Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. ~Mark Twain

-Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional. ~Chili Davis

I'm 21 today, and gosh but I don't feel it. It's only the added responsibilities that make me feel any different from when I turned 18. Everyone balks when I tell them I'm not going out drinking tonight, and I guess I can understand that. Ours is mostly a society where underage drinking is a thrilling, commonplace law to break, and when you come of legal age, you can drink to your heart's content, so why not? Moderate we are not. I said here once that I have fewer sober stories than a 17-year-old girl I work with had drunk stories, and it's likely true of a lot of teens.
People are still pushing for the drinking age to be 18, saying that if you're old enough to vote and be drafted, you're old enough to consume alcohol. It's valid reasoning, but it won't stop underage drinking, and it won't stop kids from binge-drinking. Since we slap our kids on the wrist for showing any interest in alcohol at a young age, I think it works the same way as telling them they can't have sweets before dinner: they just want it more. If, say, your family were having wine with dinner, and your child (of a reasonable age, of course, say 12 or older) wanted to try some, would you tell them no? Would you let them have a sip?
I believe that by allowing them to try a little of it, under your supervision, won't hurt. If they decide they like it, maybe they can have their own glass with a mouthful or two in it. But as long as you explain to them that they can only have small amounts, isn't it better than shutting them down automatically? Children covet the things that make them adults. They want the things that we show interest in. I can't count the number of times I've used that trick on the kids at the daycare center, or on my cousins. It's how I got them to eat their peas.
And of course, kids learn from their parents. Parents who drink a lot obviously won't be able to teach their kids about moderation and what is and isn't appropriate drinking, but that's part of a whole other lecture.

I didn't intend to get so serious or preach-y, but I allowed myself to ramble.

Anyway, next weekend Patrick, Bob, Caryn and I are going down to Wildwood for three days as a joint birthday-celebration. That weekend is directly in between mine and Caryn's birthdays, so we figure we'll celebrate together. It's why I didn't take today off of work, so I have to get going shortly to get ready. I'm working 3-9, and if I get out on time (or early, we'll see how busy we are) Patrick and I plan on going to go see Despicable Me at 9:20.

Alyssa went in to the hospital yesterday evening to be induced, and I just got an update from a friend that's with her that she just started having contractions a short while ago. I've got my fingers crossed that everything goes well.

"Old age isn't so bad when you consider the alternatives."
~Maurice Chevalier

Rule #37: Enjoy the Little Things

2010-07-30T05:08:00.000-07:00

In Zombieland, it's twinkies.
For me, it's:

-having a dog that might not be too bright, but is full of love
-getting a kiss goodbye every morning from someone who loves me
-waking up slowly to a quiet apartment
-getting together with my friends every week to kill bad guys and score some awesome loot

--

Dad, Patrick, and I were hiking this weekend, and enjoyed it thoroughly. We had a bit of a late start due to a medical emergency at the ranger station, but we spent about three hours on the trail and made it to the wilderness (read: pump water and port-a-potties) campsite around 2:30. We sat around for a minute to regain our breaths, and then set up.
We cooled our feet by standing in the river for a little bit, and then Patrick and I took a short nap while my dad sharpened his leatherman tool. After a brief hunt for firewood, we dragged our findings back to discover that some careless camper had left some very very hot ashes sitting in the fire ring. We spread them out a bit, and laid our wood and kindling down on top of them. It took about an hour, but with no help from us, our fire started from those very very hot ashes. How dangerous!
Dinner was instant noodles and canned chicken, lacking a little flavor but warm and filling. As the sun started to set we pulled our ponchos over to the fire and sat down around it. We played cards for a while and watched the fire burn low. It was a long day and I was tired, so I went to bed around 9. Good thing, too, because the foam eggcrate padding I brought to sleep on wasn't terribly comfortable. I got in a few hours of sleep before waking up around midnight with a terrible ache in my shoulder and a feeling like someone had punched me repeatedly in the hipbone. I tossed and turned until I fell asleep on my stomach around 2. Woke up around 7 and hung around in the tent for a little while more.
The weather had been threatening rain for Sunday, and as the clouds looked very menacing and the humidity was building steadily, we opted to hike back out along the way we came and meet my mom along the main path. We woke her up very early for a Sunday to do this, but she's such a wonderful woman, she got up and came to get us anyway. I love you, Mom!

Patrick and I arrived home before his sister (who was watching Kobold for us) was even awake. Patrick started breakfast (the bisquick pancakes that were supposed to have at the campsite, but skipped in favor of beating the rain) while I started unpacking. I took a quick shower and felt half a pound lighter after washing off the sweat and dirt, then sat down and ate. Patrick showered while his sister woke up (she's a late sleeper) and we played some video games for a little while before Kelly left.
When our yawning made pwning n00bs too difficult, we took a short nap. Dropped the stuff we borrowed off at my parents' house and chatted for a little bit, then came home to be lazy. My back had stiffened up by then, and my hips still felt like they'd been used for punching bags, so we didn't do a whole lot. Played some Halo with Patrick's cousin Ben, and then relaxed in bed for a bit before going to bed around 9:30.
Poor Patrick had to get up early for work today, but he'll nap when he comes home. I plan on spending the day relaxing and doing minimal work (dishes from last night, laundry to put away) before I head over to my parents' house to set up the tent. Gotta make sure it airs out before it gets put away for a while, otherwise it might start getting mildew. I'll let it sit out for an hour or so and then pack it back up.
Nice, slow day.

Picture time!

"We are part of the earth, and it is part of us."
~Chief Seattle

We've Got a Lot to Talk About

2010-07-24T07:07:00.000-07:00

After four days off straight, I was finding it hard to get the motivation to get up and go to work yesterday. Carryout ended up bustling, while the dining room only did so-so business all night. It was a long shift, since ex-CookS stopped showing up for her shifts. Something about drama with the friend she was living with and moving to Tom's River (which is about 2 hours away) to live with her boyfriend or something... I don't blame her for not wanting to continue the commute, but she could have notified us or something, rather than just not show up any more. Matt would have gladly set her up for a transfer, I'm sure. He's generally pretty good about that sort of thing.
People these days like to do that, it seems. We've had four people in the last two months just stop showing up for their shifts without any word to anyone about it. I can't think of doing that, I just can't imagine myself ever doing that unless I was under extreme duress. Even then, I'd feel terrible about it. Maybe it's just because I'm not some 17-year-old with nothing to lose but some respect from people who barely knew me anyway, but I could never do that to my coworkers. Especially if I know that they're in a tight staffing situation as it is. I respect the people I work with too much (Yes, even Matt. He's got a hard job.) to just leave them high and dry without me. If I just stopped showing up, Matt just lost 30 hours a week of waitress labor, and he doesn't have anyone trained or experienced enough to do what I do and still cover their own shifts.
I guess it boils down to respect and that "do-unto-others" thing people try so hard to teach you when you're young. I hate when people dump me like that, so I try really hard not to.

On the subject of dumping stuff on me, Matt has once again scheduled me for a monday and wednesday night. Two weeks in a row. I managed to switch for this Monday coming up, but I don't know if I can do it for the next ones. Now, when I say I have an open schedule, I am the one person at this store who has only one request: Monday and Wednesday nights off. I will work any other shift you want me to, but all I want is those two nights to myself. The reason is going to seem pretty silly until I explain it: those are the nights we play D&D. Now, I can't tell Matt this because he'll laugh in my face and call me a nerd and ask me why can't we play around my schedule.
Well, see Matt, that's the thing... this set up IS playing around everyone's schedule. We agreed long before we actually started playing to take Monday and Wednesday nights for the game. We don't play on other days with some exceptions, and those are special sessions. Aside from my responsibility to show up with my group on time, Mondays and every other Wednesday nights are the only times I get to see most of these people, whom I count as my closest friends. Every one of us is so caught up with work and other business, that it's nice to set aside a night or two to just hang out, catch up, and then sit down to play a game we all love and put a lot of effort into.
So I need to sit down with Matt and tell him that I just can't do it any more. Maybe I can say weekdays only, nights on the weekends. It'll make my schedule strict, but perhaps he won't forget quite as much that way.
We'll see how that works out, it may mean a small cut in hours. Just means I'm pushing more to get out of there.

Wednesday Dad and I went to see the Philadelphia Union play against Manchester United. Now, I'm not a big fan of ManU. I much prefer Chelsea, but I won't say that in front of Caryn, who absolutely loves ManU. So I was cheering for the Union, who lost 1-0. The game was frustrating, with sloppy passing and easy mistakes on both sides. It was a good game, don't get me wrong, and we enjoyed ourselves greatly. Unfortunately, we were sitting next to Mr. I-know-everything-about-soccer and he wouldn't stop making inane and often incorrect comments about the game. We tuned him out mostly, though.
Thursday Patrick and I went to the aquarium with our date jar money, and had an excellent time. It was, apparently, Bring Your Youth Group/Daycare/Religious Organization day, so it was crowded with kids from all walks who mostly weren't very well controlled. We plotted our way through the exhibits carefully to avoid them as much as possible, and even managed to catch a seal show. Pictures to follow the post.

My birthday is in a little under two weeks. It sneaked up on me once again, and I still keep forgetting that it's almost here. I'm turning 21, and despite everyone's expectations, I'm not going to go out to "the bar" (a very Jersey way of saying "a local and cheap alcohol vendor") to get trashed. That's not my style. I'm not a big party girl, and I don't drink much at all. I've only ever encountered one beer I've ever actually liked (I've been trying my dad's beer since I was old enough to understand it) and I am very picky about wines and hard liquor. Mostly because I don't like bitter things, my taste is limited to very sweet drinks. Now, my coworkers want to see me drunk very, very badly, and are therefore upset every time I remind them I'm not going out drinking for my 21st. In fact, I probably won't be going out at all. I didn't even take the day off from work. Between going hiking next weekend, and trying to go down to Wildwood with Caryn, Bob, and Patrick two weekends later, I just didn't feel right taking off another day in-between.
My parents want to get me bass lessons for my birthday, which is pretty cool. I've managed to teach myself some basic stuff, but I'm not good at reading music and memorizing notes, and I think a teacher would help me with that. Also, I just can't get the hang of slapping and popping the strings.

I've recently become quite a fan of the anime K-On! which is about a high school Keion (light music) club. It's a slice-of-life style show, and the music is great. It's a mix of pop and rock, and everything has a great beat. I won't give you any links or anything, because of course it's all in Japanese and most people find that to be a niche kind of music.
The bassist for the band (Houkago[afterschool] Tea Time), Mio, plays bass for the same reason I do: she loves playing, but doesn't want to draw a whole lot of attention to herself. I laughed a lot when I realized that. Aside from Mio, there are two guitars (Yui and Azusa), a keyboard (Tsumugi), and drummer (Ritsu). Now, I name everything. My mp3 player is Charlie, my laptop is Zippy. Patrick's car is Emmaline. Yui, who plays lead guitar, names everything as well. Her guitar is Gittah, and she even convinces Mio to name her bass (Elizabeth). Mine is Sammy, named before that episode even went on air.
It's really just a silly and cheerful anime that I watch because it makes me laugh and feel better when I'm upset.

Anyway, aquarium pictures for everyone and then I'm done for the day.

Jumping Now
Gachi de uruwashi Never Ending Girls' Life
hibi maji RAIBU dashi matta nashi
hayaoki shite mo hayane wa Non Non Non!
meippai Shouting "WASSHOI!"
Gachi de subarashi Never Ending Girls' Song
Gogo TIITAIMU ni wa motte koi
Kataomoi demo gyokusai de Here We Go!
Utaeba Shining After School.

Jumping Now
Seriously pretty Never Ending Girls' Life
We're serious every day, it's now or never 'cause we're live!
Even if you wake up early, going to bed early is a no-no-no!
Shouting with all I've got, "Woo-hoo!"
Seriously wonderful Never Ending Girls' Song
Our afternoon tea time couldn't be better
Our love is unrequited, but it's an honorable defeat, so Here We Go!
When we sing we're Shining After School
"Cagayake! Girls" ~ Houkago Tea Time

Sigh...

2010-07-20T06:45:00.000-07:00

Well, it was an exercise in patience and perseverance, but I made it through the week without killing anyone.

Monday was busy with just me and ManagerE running the store, but WaitressK came in a little early to help us out. I only got out 40 minutes late that day. Tuesday was also rather busy with Matt and CookA, but I had a shift overlap so I managed to get out a mere 20 minutes late that day. Wednesday I had some afternoon help for a few hours from WaitressD, so even though we were busy yet again, it was a little more bearable.
Thursday was a nice break, we were slow and I had WaitressD with me. I let her take a majority of the customers so that new WaitressN could walk around with me as I took my time and started to teach her what she needed to know. Friday was craaaaazy busy, but thankfully WaitressD came in early afternoon to give me a hand. She only needed off at night, she said, and she didn't mind helping me out. Thank god for that woman, she's a lifesaver.
Saturday Ariel no-call no-showed and I offered to come in early to help out, but Matt denied me. He didn't want to spend the labor or risk me getting overtime (because I really cost that much on the payroll...). I came in and we were steady for a while. WaitressK came in and we slowed down after about 7, but got busy again around 10 when I was leaving. I stayed a few extra minutes to put in appetizers and make sure WaitressK was okay with her 6 tables before I skedaddled.
Sunday I woke up, relaxed a little, and did some laundry. I had to seriously restrain myself when Mom asked if I wanted to go to the lake, but I was on my last clean bra and I'd been wearing the same sweaty, sauce-covered work shirts (I only have 2) for a week. Laundry was priority. I went in that afternoon to a rejoicing WaitressK, who said she'd had 4 tables all day and made $20. She was very excited about the slow business, and I agreed. Sure, she didn't make much money that day but it was nice to have a day of work where she wasn't running around like a nutball trying to make sure everyone is satisfied and gets good service. We got a small rush around 5:30, shortly after WaitressK2 came in (late, because apparently her car is busted). I left early, around 8:20 because Sunday was just slow.
I was off yesterday, and spent most of my day cleaning. I went through my clothes to pick out anything I don't wear or doesn't fit and it's sitting in a bag waiting to go to Caryn's sister. Anything that's still in good condition I give to Jenn, who is two years younger than me and grows proportionally to me, so as I grow out of something she usually is growing into it. I don't mind, and it means she gets good clothing for free. When I had my last growth spurt a few years ago, I shot up about two inches. Jenn got three pairs of jeans and a nice pair of khaki pants out of it, because I couldn't wear them anymore.

I was supposed to go in today to work 12-2:30, which is really a stupid shift, but I got a message from CookA today telling me that Matt said I didn't need to come in. So I guess he figures that it's a stupid shift, or that they won't need my help. I don't mind. I've got off tomorrow and Thursday, so that makes it a four-day vacation basically. I don't mind that at all. Today I go grocery shopping, and tomorrow is the Manchester United vs. the Philadelphia Union game I'm going to with my dad. I'm skipping out on a D&D game, but I don't mind.
Thursday Patrick and I are playing with the idea of cashing in the date jar (it's pretty much full) and going to the Camden Aquarium. I've only been there once, and it was when I was very little. I think we'll enjoy it.

Knitting ground to a halt this week, since I was so busy at work I barely had energy to come home and cook dinner most days. But, on the plus side, I made a little over $200 this week. I think that'll cover my rent next month. And the $170 from last week will pay for groceries. So I'm back on track now. The necessities are covered, and we have some breathing room again.

It's quite a relief.

I don’t think I ever saw you blink
You were so controlled that no one knew
And by the time we all stopped to think
We were already too close to you
Now you keep coming by
Telling me it’s not what I think
But I know a murder when I see one
Octopus
Some kind of octopus
Tearing my shell apart
Letting the sea get in
You make my insides outside

"Octopus"~Jonathan Coulton

Post of Complaints

2010-07-13T19:21:00.000-07:00

I've been having a hard time keeping a positive outlook on everything right at the moment. Work is especially stressful now that we've been cut down to a total of five servers--yes, five, that's really it--and we've been busier than ever. Pizza Hut rolled out some really spectacular specials and coupons in the last few months, and it's dropped the guest check totals down sometimes by as much as an extra fifteen to twenty dollars for a party of five. And that brings a tip that might have been seven or eight down to three or four.
My hours are nuts this week, since WaitressK2 (who only works four days a week here anyway) requests off every other weekend, and WaitressD has family obligations. This drops server count to three for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I work six days this week, and I go seven days straight before I get my day off. Matt has another cook training, and he just hired a waitress, but I don't know how he expects me to be able to train her when I'm working by myself all day handling the front half of the store. Matt is especially useless around the lunch rush most days, and with the lunch buffet costing only $5, one person can come in, get a water, and walk away with a $5.35 bill at the end of an hour. I might get $1 from these people. So in the end, I feel like I'm working myself to exhaustion for free.
Friday I work all day by myself, until 4 when the next server comes in. I am supposed to leave at 4, but I don't think I will get out until 5. Normally there's an hour's overlap, so that the server going off has time to wrap up any customers who might still be in their name and get their side work done. I do not have any overlap this week except for Saturday, when I work an 8-hour shift where I AM the overlap, for the morning and night shifts.
My only attempts at optimism this week are that maybe it'll make up for the abysmal rest of the month I've been suffering through.
I am not making enough money to pay my half of the rent.

When we first moved in together, Patrick and I split the rent in half. He pays the electric and the cable/internet bills, and I pay for the groceries. By the end of the month, they pretty much balance out. Two months running now I have had to lean on Patrick for the rent, and we've been skimping on groceries so that my bank account doesn't run below $50 (I keep that as emergency money). We've come to an agreement where I pay about $100 less in rent, since I do just about all of the cooking and cleaning. The idea being that Patrick pays to keep the place, and I keep the place worth paying for.
My strong Wood Woman Pride is aching as I type this, and I know Patrick will walk into the room shortly and ask me if I'm okay. I will reprise my statement of, "Just worrying about the usual," and he'll lay down for bed.

Life is tough right now, and I'm having a hard time keeping my head up.

La Furia Roja

2010-07-12T15:21:00.000-07:00

(I apologize in advance: All of my photos have come out blurry apparently. They didn't look it on the camera screen, but there you go.)

This was a nice weekend, for once. I took off Saturday and Sunday for the World Cup. Saturday was to catch up on my incredibly lax cleaning of late, and Sunday was the match. Dad, El, and my friend Caryn were coming over to watch, and I'd set up some snacky things for everyone to eat. My mom warned me Saturday night that I was going to have an extra guest, and so I prepared.

"So where's this party I heard about?" Lulu sauntered into my apartment and looked around. "There's only four people and a sheep here. Are we too early?"
I finished setting out the chips and looked over. "Everyone's here. Patrick will be back from work in a little bit, but this is it."
"Well then, where's the wine?"
"I don't have any."
Everyone was settling in as the pre-game stuff came on TV.
"Beer?"
"None."
"Hard liquor?"
"Absolutely not. I'm not even of age yet, Lulu."
"Terrible party."

She huffed and settled herself down to watch some TV with us. Kobold got a little interested, and came over to give Lulu a sniff.
Of course, she didn't like it. He was trying to be friendly, but Lulu is only a sheep and he's a herding dog... she gave him such a punch on the nose, he left her alone all afternoon.

As we chatted over the previous games, and discussed what would happen in this one, Lulu suddenly fixed her eyes to the TV.
"Which team is in red?"
"Spain."
"I am supporting them."
Everyone paused.
Caryn raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"
"That number 7..."
"David Villa," I supplied.
"...He's the most handsome thing on the field. Do you have any Spain jerseys?"

So I dug through my small stash of fabric scraps and managed to come up with some red and white pieces from a costume. And, using the last few minutes before the game started, I whipped together a quick shirt for Lulu to wear. At least she seemed to be getting into the spirit of things...

The game started and we began our own running commentary. Lulu got very excited every time "her David" got the ball, and shouted the most obscene things when the Netherlands "had the gall to block that beautiful shot."
Of course, La Furia Roja and Oranje could not let each other score. If you followed the Cup at all, you of course already know this. The game went 0-0 straight through, and it was an incredibly well-played match. There were so many close calls that Lulu began to complain that her heart couldn't take the strain.
My dad, who was supporting the Netherlands, is one of those guys who favors one side, but praises both teams. I tend to do the same, granting credit for good plays where it is due. Elanor is a quiet observer, reserving commentary and just enjoying the game. Caryn, on the other hand, is a violent sort of fan. She jumps around, cheers, boos, and gets really into the game. She was upset at Spain for crushing Germany, her team of choice, in the semifinals, but could not muster the spirit to support the Netherlands. She was pretty neutral for this game.

But, 118 minutes and a record-breaking 14 yellow cards later, Spain finally makes a goal. Oranje just couldn't get themselves a goal to tie, and that means no penalty kicks.
Lulu was beside herself, something I didn't expect.
"That's my David!"
"Lulu, two things: first, his name isn't Day-vid, it's Dah-veed. He's Spanish. Second, Iniesta is the one that made the goal."
But the truth didn't assuage her glee any.

After thoroughly rubbing it in my dad's face, we wrangled Patrick over to take a group picture. Lulu and I are gloating that our chosen team (and Paul the Octopus's), and Dad is making trouble trying to tickle my knee as punishment.

Shortly after the awards ceremony everyone packed up to head back to whatever they needed to do.

"Thanks for the shirt, kiddo."
"You're welcome. Thanks for coming."
"Shame about the alcohol, but I guess I got the party swinging pretty good anyway."
"... Sure did. Thanks, Lulu."

"Life's a very Sweet and Bitter beauty song.
Nee, kimi nara nani wo utau?"
(So, what will you sing?)
~Sweet Bitter Beauty (Sakurakou Keionbu)

Blog Dump

2010-07-06T06:35:00.001-07:00

The holiday weekend was a busy one for me. Saturday I worked all morning and shortly after I got home Patrick and I walked over to the high school to meet my parents for fireworks. We sit in a little corner a ways off from the athletics fields where the biggest crowds are. Every year this area gets more and more crowded as people discover that it's got a nice view of the fireworks without all the other people.
On the side of the school directly facing this area is a light. It is a floodlight, of the kind typically placed outside of public places. It shines directly into our faces as we watch the fireworks, but this year my Uncle Rick remembered to bring something to cover it. It was just a small dark fleece blanket, just large enough to drape over the light and cover the worst of it.
This light is also about ten feet up on the wall. So, my dad came over with my uncle and together they boosted me up high enough (I'm the smallest and lightest who is old enough to be trusted for this) and I draped the blanket on the light. As they let me down, a few people in the surrounding area clapped and cheered, and one woman shouted, "I hate that light!"
I've been contracted to continue doing this little acrobatic feat for a few years until Maggie is coordinated enough to do it.

On the Fourth I was out for a good part of the afternoon trying to find a skirt or shorts to wear at work. There are only two requirements for these in the dress code and they are that they must be 1)black and 2)come no higher than three inches above my knee. Now, if you follow modern fashion at all you'll realize that finding something less than three inches above my knee is a laughable endeavor.
You're completely right. I checked five different stores with no luck. In the end, I just copied my mom's wonderful idea and got a pattern and some fabric and I'm going to make a skirt. I have to make it a size up from what I expected, though, as my hips are fairly wide and it must fit over my hips to get to my waist, which is much more slender.
I loved your idea, Roxie, but unfortunately when I tried it with a bandanna (I even found my black one, so it would match my uniform!) I was told that it was against the uniform policy, no matter if I kept it tucked under my collar so you couldn't see it. Sigh...

I woke up late yesterday morning because I didn't sleep well and I half-ran to work. As it was already 90 degrees out by that time, I was quite tired and miserable by the time I'd gotten in and changed. Then, of course, we were busy and I was stuck with the miserable new girl (who has lots of problems that I don't particularly want to hear about) and everyone was tipping badly. I got told off by an older woman because I apparently walked away every time she tried to get my attention, even though every time I went out to her table for something she was in a conversation with another member of her party. Then she came up front to complain about me to my manager, and complained to her about whatever it was she was trying to complain to me about. What an unhappy woman. I'm expecting to come in today and have a complaint call on file about me.

Knitting is shifting gears. I've put down the sweater and picked up my Yarn Peddler's Shawl from the Folk Shawls book. I was almost done the miles and miles of garter stitch that makes up the main part, so I determined to finish the last four or five rows and get to the lace. I did, and I am slowly working my way through lots of red wool. This is a large shawl and will keep me very warm when the weather cools down enough to wear it.

Ever seen or heard of the show Adventure Time? It's one of Cartoon Network's newest line-up additions, and for the first time in a long time, I like the new show. It's silly and packed full of adventure, which is what cartoons should be. Caryn, who is crafty in the fabric department, made Bob and I hats like Finn's, which have become our DM hats. That is, whenever one of us DMs, we wear the hats to show out superior position amongst the group. They're just white felt, and if you go to CN's website, they have a printable pattern there for it.

The heat has been unbearable, and I regularly come home from work with headaches from it. Not because I'm dehydrated, I've been drinking enough water every day to lower the Delaware River a few inches. It's just because it's so hot. It's disgusting, having to cut people's food while the sweat is dripping down my face. I don't think it's healthy or hygenic for anyone to be working in that kind of environment, and we're making less than minimum wage to do it. That's right, $2.13 an hour folks. Minimum wage in NJ is up to $7.25. We live off our tips, so if I have another day like yesterday, where I made $17, I'm going to start mugging customers in the parking lot.

Today is going to be miserable, I'm sure. Well, I'm off to trudge to work. It's 85 degrees out right now. Ugh.

So many posts!

2010-06-26T20:17:00.000-07:00

I have been such a prolific blogger lately!

I have also been extremely crafty lately, getting things done around the apartment. My Aunt Anna Marie gave me some shelves from her first apartment a while back, and I had been toying with the notion of painting them. They were a sort of drab brown to start with, since, you know, they're wood. So Patrick agreed with me and we took a trip one day to Home Depot to get some paint and supplies.
Patrick wouldn't take much part in choosing a color, since he claims to be blind when it comes to picking things out. He didn't offer much more than, "Well, that one is a nice color. But I like that one, too. It's up to you."
So I took it on myself to pick the color. I ended up with "new grass green" which isn't as bright as it sounds. Don't get me wrong, it is still bright. I just don't think I'd call it "new grass green." New grass glows in the sunlight, a special green only for fresh foliage. This picture doesn't do the color justice, but it's the best I could do. It's a bit brighter than that, but not by much. When I ordered the paint at the counter, the guy said that he always liked it when someone comes in and gets happy colors. He gets bored mixing whites and beiges all day.
Glad to oblige, sir. I like bright colors.
The paint itself was special stuff, apparently. It was designed to act as its own base-coat primer. What this meant was that I could wipe the dust off the shelves, lay out an old sheet, and get painting. The finished product got two coats of paint and looks great. We haven't hung anything yet, but it's coming. Watch out, blank, boring white walls. I will conquer you yet.

In other news, one of my coworkers is having a baby at the end of July. Her babyshower is on Sunday, and despite the many months of warning I had (how could I be so dense?) I did not start knitting anything. I hit the two week mark and had a mild panic attack. What could I do? I didn't have time to knit anything now! The four-day mark came and I got a lovely quilt in the mail. As I curled up in it early on Friday morning on the couch, I had a stroke of inspiration. I can still make a baby blanket, I just need to sew it. I never understood why babies could only have baby things in pale colors. I object to that, and so I try and make it a point to get babies things with bright colors that they can hang on to for a while.
When I remembered the map and scraps of fabric that my mom had gotten me for Christmas a few years ago to go with my sewing machine, everything clicked.
I took a leaf out of Roxie's book and built it around a crib-sized fleece throw, so I had to cut a bit off the sides; Japan's westernmost coast is only just visible by the seam. But this is a hard-wearing blanket that is completely machine washable (it's for a baby after all), and it's warm and soft and squishy. Whether she uses it as a blanket or a changing table pad, or even if she hangs onto it until her little one is older, this kid should get a ton of use out of this blanket. And hey, when she gets into school, she'll have a head start on geography!
The back is a sheet that I got at Walmart for a few bucks. The colors match the map just about perfectly, though my camera decided to emphasize the yellow no matter what I did.
It's going to get a washing tomorrow morning, and then it gets wrapped for the babyshower. I'm so excited.

Work has been draining me more than normal lately, due in part to the overwhelming heat that we've had. The building's air conditioner is old, and it can't handle the stress that we put on it any more. Usually the back of the store is up in the 80's now, higher if you're standing nearer to the oven. Matt has gotten fans to put up for the workers, but hot air blowing on your hot face isn't always a better choice. We take turns standing in the walk-in for a few seconds to gives ourselves a break and then we go haring off again.
Some people in the area still don't have power, and likely won't have power again until Monday or Tuesday. It's tough, but because of the trees they have to wait for the insurance companies to come inspect the claims. The electric companies can't remove any of the trees or fallen lines until the agents have finished with their stuff. I hope everyone has somewhere they can stay until they get power back.

And now to finish off the blog post with a dog picture. Kobold apparently thinks he's a cat.

"Babies do not want to hear about babies. They want to hear about giants and castles."
~I can't find the book that's got this quote written down in it

2010-06-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

I originally intended for this post to go up last night, but we lost power while I was in the middle of it and didn't get the power back until somewhere between three and four o'clock this morning. I had a terrible time trying to sleep in my 87* apartment last night, and even once the power came back on the air conditioning doesn't reach the bedroom well, so we just put in the fan since it was fairly cool outside. It took several hours for the room to cool down to a comfortable level, and Kobold was so unhappy at the situation he didn't sleep hardly at all. Therefor, neither did we. And now I have to go to work. Ugh.

So, here is my original post, nice and delayed. Please remind yourself that everything that says "today" really means "yesterday." I'm too lazy to fix it.

Patrick and I went to the King of Prussia mall today, and while it took us an hour to drive there and a little over two to get back we had an enjoyable time. I got a new purse from the Sanrio store (Hello Kitty!), a tea brewer and some new tea, some socks, and a game for Bob. Patrick got Left 4 Dead 2.
On the way up, an interesting thing happened. Elanor sent me a text message saying that my dog training stuff had come. I sent her back a confused reply, telling her that I had not ordered anything. She called me promptly and said that someone must have ordered it for me, then. It was a large box of 150 dog training pads. This brought more confusion from me since Kobold is already house-trained. And then she read off the return address. "Roxanna Matthews."
I fought the urge to make Patrick turn around so I could go retrieve my parcel. I know well by now that packages from Roxie mean wonderful things.
In the end, we kept going, and determined to stop on the way home again.
We did.

I opened the box in front of my expectant parents and Patrick, and found balloons. "Huh," thought I, "good packing material."
Underneath the balloons was a note declaring the large soft lump underneath everything else to be a quilt that Roxie had lovingly made. I expressed a wish to obtain one of her quilts on her blog a little while ago, and she obliged me in a wonderful way. It is completely machine washable, too--its base is an old comforter that she bought at a yard sale (very economical)--so that we can use it for picnics or stargazing or whatever, really.
It is an absolutely gorgeous quilt, and I am in love with it. It's a shame that it's too warm to keep it on my bed, but it'll stay on the couch for any chance that I might have to use it.
We've finally broken out of the unusually long period of hot and dry weather this afternoon while Patrick and I were away. There was, the way I have heard it, an Armageddon demo. A transformer on the corner of Bob's street exploded. We dropped off the game we got for him and part of his street was blocked because the wreckage was still smoldering on the tar. On the road behind my parents' house was someone's aluminum shed, which had apparently tumbled around and crumpled quite severely (a friend of mine watched it blow across the road in front of him earlier).

--end original post--

The sky today is blue and it's sunny, and everything is still wet from the rain yesterday. people will be out and about today to clean up the tree damage and debris that is littering the ground profusely.
I briefly considered calling out of work today so that I can get some sleep, but who's going to cover my shift? We're still severely short-handed today, and I'm sure a lot of places still don't have power. I called last night to warn them that I didn't have an alarm and might be a tad bit late but I'd try, and was told that the two closest Pizza Huts (Clementon and Deptford) were dark and that poor Magnolia was getting the overflow of business. Matt apparently came back in last night to help out around the store, which is amazing. They got their butts kicked from all accounts, and I'm a little afraid to see what the store looks like when I go in. But both of the Alyssas closed last night, so I'm pretty sure they stayed late and did a good job. Go them.

Well, time to get dressed and eat something before I go trudge through my day. Thank you so much for the quilt, Roxie! I love it.

"He was the sort of man who stood on mountaintops during thunderstorms in wet copper armor shouting, "All the Gods are bastards.""
~Terry Pratchett

The Germalian Society of Fine Arts Presents: Skullcrusher Mountain

2010-06-22T07:49:00.000-07:00

I haven't made a D&D update in quite a while, so here's the abbreviated version of Events Up Until Now:
-We have made it across the enemy-infested continent of Nibelung in record time, and escaped their eastern port with only minor trouble.
-The next stop was the country Bastion, and Morrigan's home town of Havenloft. She reunited with the Mother Superior of the church-cum-orphanage at which she grew up.
-There was a quest for an ancient potion that was rumored to cure the Spell Plague, which is otherwise uncureable. And usually deadly. Matthias had a personal quest to find a chick (who had the spell plague) and inform her that her father was dead and she should head back home to take over his rule of the town.
-Morrigan and Kaelin discovered some disturbing things about the history of Bastion and Edgewater that changes just about everything they thought they knew (or didn't remember, in Kaelin's case).
-When they returned to the town, Mother Superior was dead at the hands of a thief that Morrigan had convinced everyone to spare earlier.
-Morrigan goes nuts and nearly kills the guy.
-The thief gets killed by Sel'zanath who reacts without thinking. His friend skedaddles when Morrigan threatens to kill him in seconds if he's still in town.
-Chick is cured of the Spell Plague, and after a chat with Morrigan agrees to take on the responsibility of running the church and orphanage until Morrigan can either return to do it herself or can find a suitable replacement.
-The group head off to the next country of Germaly, where things are hands-down the craziest stuff ever. The location of the next pillar is there.

They spend the night in the port town where the inn gives the patrons complimentary plush robes and you pay by swirling a glass of sherry constantly. Don't drink it, though. They're always watching. Matthias somehow convinces Morrigan to share a room with him, and unknown to her asks for the biggest room in the place.
Of course, it's a honeymoon suite.
As retaliation, Morrigan locks herself in the bathroom, and with the help of Eris (she's a rogue, after all) booby-traps the door quite effectively. She sleeps in the rather comfy tub all night.

When they leave the next morning, Matthias is still unconscious against the far wall from triggering the traps. Kaelin has managed to lose himself and is nowhere to be found. So the others continue on without them, since everyone knows to head to the pillar anyway. The country of Germaly is relatively small, so it doesn't take long to reach an 85-foot high wall that seems to block any path to the pillar. When they do find a door inside, they're greeted by a man in incredibly tight pants, a shirt that is open a little at the chest, and a very nice scarf. He directs them down the hallway after telling the party that this is a toll wall.
The toll? They must perform a play.

The play to which they are assigned is called Skullcrusher Mountain. It is a three-act musical romantic comedy. The main cast is composed of five members:
Rosencrantz, a bard played by Matthias who comes to Skullcrusher Mountain and falls in love with one of its residents. He stalks her in a creepy way, convincing his friend that they're only there for the Three-Horned Pidgeon of Parnassus.
Billy Joel is Rosencrantz's childhood friend and protector, played by Sel'zanath (who thinks this whole thing is a load of crap). He doesn't believe in the Three-Horned Pidgeon of Parnassus, but won't leave his friend. He later dies in a fight with the Three-Horned Pidgeon of Parnassus because of a cheap knock-off weapon he bought that was sold to him by...
Serial, who is played by Eris. She is a slightly crazy and gothy merchant who sells cheap knock-offs of magical items and weapons. It is her that convinces Billy Joel to buy the weapon that results in his death.
Alan is a cleric who is, rather obviously, played by Morrigan. She is the object Rosencrantz's frightening affections. She runs a flower shop in town and cares for orphans. She is completely oblivious to the advances made on her.
Howard is a mad scientist who kidnaps Alan and just wants to see the world consumed by a conflagration of his design. He is, of course, played by Kaelin.

Bob, in a quest to make the game more interesting for everyone, has found a way to work the game Rockband in with D&D. It is a game within a game and if that sounds complicated, it could become that very quickly. We all have lines that we need to memorize, and if we don't we could end up failing the play. And as the audience is composed entirely of theatre-going monsters of terrible strength and aberrant nature, ruining the play pretty much results in death.
Fortunately for us, if we forget a line or flub a song we can try and bluff our way through it, but there's still a chance we'll fail the check.

Here's the song lineup for the play (links to the lyrics):
Matthias: I Get By (Honest Bob and the Factory to Dealer Incentives)
Kaelin: Skullcrusher Mountain (Jonathan Coulton)
Sel'Zanath: Margaritaville (Jimmy Buffet)
Eris: All-Star (Smashmouth)
Morrigan: Just a Girl (No Doubt)

This is going to get very interesting.

You know, it's not easy living here on Skullcrusher Mountain.
So maybe you could cut me just a little slack?
Would it kill you to be civil?
I've been patient, I've been gracious,
And this mountain is covered with wolves.
Hear them howling, my hungry children?
Maybe you should stay and have another drink and think about me and you.
Oh, and I'm so into you,
But I'm way too smart for you.
Even my henchmen think I'm crazy,
I'm not surprised that you agree.
If you could find some way to be
A little bit less afraid of me
You'd see that the voices that control me from inside my head
Tell me I shouldn't kill you yet.
I shouldn't kill you yet.
I shouldn't kill you yet.
~Skullcrusher Mountain

2010-06-21T07:30:00.000-07:00

To the man who wanted a son, but got three daughters: thank you for teaching me what a good burp sounds like. I still can't quite manage one, but I try my best to make you proud.
For the guy who's favorite Sunday Morning Wrestling move was a dutch oven: thank you for letting us out after a minute so that we didn't suffocate.
To my father, who cried that one Christmas because I got him the most awesome present ever (time spent with me in a super-cool museum): thanks for showing me that stuff can be cool and educational at the same time.
For the man that hooked all my worms for me when I was too young to do it myself and thought they were gross: thank you for always showing your trust in me, even though you always ducked when I cast my line.
To the father who taught me everything I know about camping: thank you for carrying the heavy stuff when we went hiking. I can help now, though I'll still let you build the fire.
For the guy who taught me how to shell peanuts without looking: thanks for showing me a sport that isn't all about running down the other team and beating the crap out of them or baseball.

You're a pretty awesome guy, but you only get to hear it once a year. Wouldn't want your ego to swell.

And no, there is no post-father's day celebration week.

Shortie

2010-06-17T13:38:00.000-07:00

Kobold got a bath today, bringing is total bath tally up to three. He's become slightly more compliant each time, and he only scratched me (accidentally) once this time around. He's been itching a lot lately and since we have yet to encounter a single flea in the apartment or on him, we got him some oatmeal shampoo. In a few days we'll give him his flea treatment and then he'll be fine for another month at least.
Since he doesn't spend a lot of time outside, we don't worry too much about fleas, but it doesn't hurt to have the medicine on him anyway. Patricks' mother's dogs get them regularly and Maddie, the mutt, tends to attract them more than normal.

Yesterday we got some frames from A.C.Moore since I have posters and pictures that need to decorate our still-bare-white walls, and we managed to get two of them up. This one is a freebie poster I got from PAX for my favorite survival-horror game that has ever existed, Dead Space. It's a gorey game, and the name of the combat mechanic gives away just how: Strategic Dismemberment.
That's right, you have to separate your enemies' limbs from their bodies to win. The things you fight in this game are constantly evolving (something like a genetic zombie, it's called a necromorph) and so even if you shoot off their legs, they will claw their way to you with their arms. The only way to kill them is to completely destroy them. Removing or destroying the head doesn't always work, so sometimes it's safer to slow them down and then back away so you can shoot them apart at your leisure.
It's a great game, I love it. I have an artbook I got at PAX signed by the art lead and the project director. They were really nice guys.

The other picture that's gotten framed is this one. I believe it to be the only picture I have of Patrick smiling voluntarily. Last summer, while on vacation in Wildwood, we were wandering the boardwalk and decided to get one of the cheesy old-with-an-e time photos.
The place was pretty crowded, and the workers were startlingly efficient at undressing and redressing me in a slip-on corset and skirt. And of course the fishnets. No shoes. It was fun regardless of the hustle, though when the camera guy wanted us to make serious faces, he didn't really give us time to.
It was also pretty expensive. Boardwalk robbery. But worth it, in my opinion. It's my favorite picture that I own, and Patrick begged me to hang it up above his desk, so he could "look up and see me smiling all the time."
Ain't he cute?

"Okay, so here's the deal: grass grows, birds fly, and brotha'... I hurt people."
~Team Fortress 2: Meet the Scout

2010-06-07T11:20:00.000-07:00

It was a long and trying week last week, and I'm glad to see the end of it. Aside from the funeral (at which I cried gallons and gallons, and felt slightly better at the end), it's been unseasonably warm for late spring here, and the humidity is teasing us with thunderstorms that just blow right over us without releasing any of the moisture that's sitting in the air primed to drench our thirsty grass. In addition to all that, we are being inspected tomorrow at work, and our SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) is a very important thing for us to pass with flying colors. As such, we have been under extreme pressure from Matt to make sure you can perform surgery on any surface in the store.
I spent two hours out of my eight hour shift on Saturday on my hands and knees scrubbing the baseboards in the wait station.

I have the day off today, and as such have spent it cleaning my apartment. It's much cooler today, somewhere around 75* with the breeze going. I figure I can get all my cleaning out of the way now, and that way when Thursday rolls around and Patrick and I have off together, we can spend the day being lazy. Poor Patrick was working a nine hour shift on Saturday, which was Friendly's free ice cream day. And, because a manager quit at another store, the owners are doing the Manager Shuffle until they find a way to arrange the thinned ranks. This means that his schedule changed and he doesn't have off until Thursday. His last day off was last Wednesday.
I plan on pampering him when he gets home today to the best of my ability.

Speaking of employee switching, we had three people quit without notice about two weeks ago, and ever since then everyone that's left has been working odd and extended shifts to cover for the gap made. Considering the fact that Matt only JUST hired someone to replace the girl who quit over two months ago, I don't see us getting any reprieve any time soon. I just dropped an application at Wawa down the road and the LA Fitness that my parents go to. I hope one of them calls back.

I've recently become addicted to the show Bones on Netflix. It's about a forensic anthropologist, and gosh I never expected I could be so interested in the calcification on a femur. It's an incredibly enjoyable show, and I've just started the third season.

The second sleeve on Blue is done, now I just have to sew it up and start the hood. It'll be done just in time for the summer heat.

Hope your week started smoothly and with temperate weather.

Well I was laying out wire on Number 9
Now when she came down to earth.
And she was talkin' real loud
All about how she was gonna save the universe.
I went an' snuck a li'l peek in her blue eyes
And words just aren't enough...
She had me off an runnin'
~Tim Jensen, Yoko Kanno "Diggin'"

2010-05-30T05:42:00.000-07:00

My grandmother died yesterday. Well, Aunt Joan wasn't technically my grandmother, but when my technical grandmother made no move to acquaint herself with us, Aunt Joan was there with her heart and arms open like always.

Aunt Joan was one of the kindest, most giving people I have ever known. When she believed that she may have won the lottery (or publisher's clearing house, we're not really clear on what was going on) she wanted to give my parents money to fix the roof. She didn't want them to pay her back, even though they insisted. In the end she didn't win, but that was okay too.

Almost Every Halloween up until her breathing became very difficult we would trick-or-treat in her neighborhood because the curfew was later than ours. Then we would come back to her house, eat dinner, and commence the candy swap. The swap is a traditional part of our halloween celebrations, where we would lay out our stash and sort through and prioritize everything. What we didn't like got traded, and Aunt Joan was always keen to eye up our piles for anything she liked. And, as she got older and less likely to eat candy, she would mediate our little scuffles over what was and wasn't a fair trade.

I am so lucky to have had a person like my Aunt Joan in my life, to have someone who could tell me family stories, share her experiences with me. I regret never knitting her a pair of socks, but perhaps I can get a pair together before the funeral.

I will miss you for all my life. Rest well, Aunt Joan. You deserve it.

My love for you burns deep
Inside me, so strong.
Embers of times we had;
And now I stand here lost in memory,
I see your face and smile.
Oh how I love you so, lost in those memories.
And now you've gone;
I feel the pain, feeling like a fool,
Adieu.

~Yoko Kanno "Adieu"

Rendering a Kobold

2010-05-23T09:45:00.000-07:00

I have often had people see me drawing on my computer and ask me how I do it. My usual smart-ass reply is, "I hold the pen in my hand, like so. Then I drag it across the pad, and it makes a mark on the screen. Isn't it amazing?" I have a Wacom art pad (the Bamboo Fun style) that is simple and very easy to use. I am not exaggerating when I am a smartass, that is genuinely how easy it is to use them. I mean, sure, they require a little extra hand-eye coordination, since you're watching your drawing on the screen, not as you draw it on the pad. It's disconcerting when you first try, but I really enjoy it. The ability to erase over and over without wearing your paper thin is an unsung virtue, in my opinion.
I have, on a few occasions, agreed to give some people basic art lessons. These never go over well, since most people find the basics boring. It's unfortunate, because the basics are the most important part. I have since given up, and refuse to teach anyone, even if they genuinely want to try. "Practice," I tell them. "Find some anatomy and botany books, look around online, and practice."

Everyone draws differently. Bob uses lots of layers, and his personal style is kind of squared and comic-bookish. Caryn works wonders with color and loves putting in fine details, but her drawings tend to be a little long and slightly gothic with a heavy anime-overtone. My art leans towards a comfortable median between comic book detail and design and anime-like simplicity. For a good portion of my drawing career I was pretty erratic in my style, trying to find the middleground that was most comfortable to me.
When I start a new picture, I use a basic frame that helps me decide about where the important parts should be first, and then start to flesh out the areas around it.
This is Layer 1.
At first, everything is very vague and primarily just shapes mashed together into a figure. Usually people can't really tell what I'm drawing at first. This is the second step, where I've begun to figure out how the muscle and fat on the frame has settled into position.
For this part, I usually keep my brush at about 50% opacity.

Layer 2 goes up next, and my brush opacity usually jumps to somewhere around 80%. This one I've got it at 100%.
This is step 3, where I start to finalize the frame and outline, adding in details to flesh out everything and make it more recognizable. This is a good place for me to make a save, in case something goes horribly awry later on in the process. I can get rid of what I have ruined and start again from this part.
Perspective comes into play here, as with the turned hind leg and slight turn of the head.
By the way, this is Kobold, if you haven't noticed.

Current working time: about fifteen minutes

This is Layer 3. Well, technically it's Layer 3. What this really is is a copy of Layer 2, cleaned up and fixed. You can see that I've removed Layer1, you can't see it any more. This is the finalized outline, completed and ready to color.
The cleaning step is the second-longest out of all of them, bringing my current working time up to forty-five minutes.

Next comes the hardest and longest step: coloring. This really is a process in itself, requiring a base color, highlights, and shadows. Three layers to a single step, with tweaking and lots of editing in between.

This is the base color layer. What this step does is give me a palette (top left) to work off of, and help me place the colors where they ought to be. Now, I didn't luck out and get a tri-color german shepherd hybrid. Of course not. I got the mashed-together blend of reds, oranges, and golds that make up the less-common coats of the breed. Not that he isn't gorgeous, but it makes coloring rather fidgety.

Now, using the smudge, blur, dodge, and burn tools, I can add a fur effect and get the shading juuuuuuuust right. Unfortunately for you, if you were really paying attention, I'm not going to go over this step in detail. It's a lot of little strokes with (fingers crossed) precision. The undo button is used a lot.
But, bringing my project time to a round hour and a half, here is the finished product, and the picture I drew it from:It's not perfect, I know. But it's pretty good, and I'm happy with it.

"The right person in the wrong place can make all the difference."
~Gman

2010-05-14T16:33:00.000-07:00

Dog pictures!

The weather here has been pretty turbulent lately, flitting erratically between 85* and 60* days. On the hotter days, Kobold stretches out on out two tile floors. The kitchen, to the left; and the bathroom, below. He lays like he was a skin rug, and it is really odd.

He's got a new chew toy now, one of the Kong toys. They are shaped like beehives, and made of a very sturdy, hard rubber. There's a hole in either end, and you put a treat in it. The point is for the dog to figure out how to bite the toy just right so that the treat comes out. This is an incredibly difficult thing to do, and I had a hard time getting it in there in the first place. We got the "xtreme chew" edition, which is made of super-extra hard rubber. What this means is that he will frustrate the hell out of himself trying to get the delicious peanut butter-flavored treat out, and at the same time occupy his time by chewing on something that won't get him in trouble.

Today is Patrick's birthday, and I thought about doing a post that was about him. But he doesn't really like that sort of thing in most cases, because he doesn't always feel comfortable when I single him out. So I will make the summation of the day short: We both worked, we ran a few errands after I got out. I made some sangria (delicious!), and then cooked dinner. Steaks wrapped in bacon, he requested them. Paired with potatos and corn, he was made very happy. He also requested an ice cream cake, which we are about to start thawing. We rented the movie Planet 51, and are planning on spending the night in and ignoring the thunder storm that is going on outside.

Kobold has his Kong toy on the floor, and he is trying his hardest to tear the thing open. I have lots of cleaning to do tomorrow, but that will wait. Patrick and I have some peace tonight, and I hope you do, too.

Please don't say "You are lazy"
datte hontou wa Crazy
hakuchoutachi wa sou
mienai toko de BATAashi suru n desu
honnou ni juujun chuujitsu honrou mo juujuu shouchi
zentoyouyou dashi...
dakara tama ni kyuukei shichau n desu
Please don't say "You are lazy"
Because I'm actually crazy
When even the graceful swan
Is kicking its legs hard under water
We're really following our instincts, open to criticism any time
We've got a bright future ahead
So that's why we need to take a break sometimes

Don't Say Lazy~Houkago Tea Time (After School Tea Time)

It is Unlikely, but I am Optimistic

2010-05-11T13:32:00.001-07:00

Microsoft is sponsoring a sweepstakes to show off their Reach Beta. It runs May 4th to the 17th, and the winner gets the following:
One Grand Prize: "Ride the Halo Warthog" at WETA Studios in Wellington, New Zealand
-Roundtrip airfair and five nights accommodations in Welling, NZ for 2.
-Weta Studios visit with a ride on Warthog
-Wellington City and Sightseeing tour, 2 1/2 hour motor coach for 2.
-Wellington's "Lord of the Rings" half day tour, Wairarapa Adventour with either a two-hour horseback ride, high ropes course, or guided hike through Patuna Chasm; all for two
-$500.00 spending money
-Halo Master Chief sterling silver ring
-Halo Cortana Statue

Approximate retail value $7874

I am entering. I doubt I will get chosen, but there is always a chance, and I am always optimistic.

I am knitting sleeves, and then Blue gets assembled and I knit the hood. (Sweater's name is Blue now because it popped into my head and it silly.)

Chin Up

2010-05-03T15:44:00.001-07:00

It has been a fair amount of time since I have last felt the need to post on my blog. This is mostly because I am a lazy person by nature, but also because my life has not been so extraordinary as to need to be blogged about.

It has been hot and humid here for the past few days, and that generally makes me an unattractive person. We have turned on the air conditioner for Kobold, who has had no time to adjust to the sudden temperature spike and has been a very lazy dog indeed. He languishes most of his time away laying on either the bathroom or kitchen floor tiles, panting away and looking anguished-ly at me whenever I walk by. Apparently the apartment is still not cool enough for him? Kobold may be a winter dog at heart, who knows. He will have to learn to suffer with some heat, though.
I will keep him well-watered in the interim.

Patrick and I went grocery shopping today, and since it was there, we stopped first by Petsmart. Kobold recently tore up his rope toy, which was fine because with it in threads, the risk of him swinging around a heavily knotted rope and bashing us in the heads was much less a threat. Unfortunately, Patrick and I refused to pull half-digested strings out of his butt when we walked him, so we threw it away.
We learned our lesson and got him a (hopefully) longer-lasting bouncy-ball-honeycomb-thing that he seems to like. We also picked up a head collar for walking him, and a mesh muzzle to start training him to STOP BARKING ALL THE DAMN TIME IT IS UNNECESSARY. Head-collars work in an interesting way to divert the energy of a dog that tugs on the leash. There is a loop that goes around the snout and sits snugly (but not restrictively) up near their face. This is attached under the chin to a collar that fits around their neck. The leash attaches under the chin as well. In this way, when the dog tugs on the leash, it redirects them to the side and frustrates the hell out of them until they learn that pulling away is a useless thing to do.
The muzzle is a necessary training object because Kobold seems to think that any time the guy upstairs is moving around after dark, it is a reason to bark loudly and incessantly. Another good reason is when he hears someone outside. Anyone. At any distance. The muzzle goes on when he won't stop barking, and comes off when he's calmed down. He also gets a treat when it comes off, to remind him that the behavior he was exhibiting not only merits removing the torture device he hates so dearly, but also a treat because he is doing good things that we like.

My progress on Evenstar is being made slowly, since I feel no need to rush and don't want to. I don't want to make a mistake and rip out again. On the other hand, my sweater is making good progress as it is a mindless sort of knit. I'm about 2/3 up the front, with the back complete. From there, I make two sleeves, a hood, stitch it all up, and add the edge around the neck and hood.

However, for now there will be very little of anything besides video games. The Halo: Reach beta just dropped and Patrick, Bob, Caryn, Ben and I are keen to check it out. The game itself releases this fall, so the beta will be a great way to play around with it and see if we like it (unfinished as it may be) enough to preorder any of the special releases. Halo itself is an Xbox first-person shooter game that we are all rather fond of. I won't go into the details since I think they bore most normal humans, but the Reach beta will be a joyous time for us.

You say you're down
You can't lose that frown
Live sucks, what else is new?
That's tough, there's not much you can do.
You're not the only one
Not having any fun.
I've got a funny feeling
That we're all born to lose
I've got a funny feeling
That this life ain't worth living
Through.
~Reel Big Fish "Cheer Up"

Holy Cow!

2010-04-17T20:47:00.000-07:00

Two years.
I can't believe it's been two years since I started working at Pizza Hut. Matt slipped me my "Thank you for not quitting!" card and pin as he left today, claiming that he didn't think I was much of a get-everyone-together-for-the-giving-of-the-pin kind of person.
He's right.
Just about everyone at Pizza Hut signed my card, mostly with witty comments like "Why would you do this to yourself?", "Yay Kate! Looks like you're gonna be a lifer like me!", and "Kate, You will NEVER leave, you're cursed!" I also got some nicer comments, like Dan the Cook's note: "Hola Kate, Tu eres la mejor." He ruined it by adding "PS, I don't really like you. lol j/k."

It is heartening that everyone signed, even though I doubt that they would write something truly terrible on a card for anyone unless they harbored a deep and abiding hatred of them. I am also proud that I have stuck with that hell-hole for so long. I work hard at my job, and I take pride in my work. When regular customers come in and ask me how my vacation was, or tell me about their brother/aunt/cousin who's in the hospital, or I hear from someone else that a customer was asking after me, I know I've done my job right. I gave good, friendly service and the food was obviously satisfying enough to come back (though I can rarely take credit for that). And they remember that.

I try very hard to always be cheerful when I walk through the doors of the store. Not only because the more I smile the more my customers smile (generally) but because everyone at Pizza Hut is always so miserable. I mean, yeah, we laugh and joke around and have a tolerable if not pleasant time with each other, but we all hate our jobs with varying degrees of passion. So I try to be the cheerful one with a silly joke or a friendly comment to make everyone else smile. And it usually works: the mood lightens by the minute when I'm there. But it's not just me, everyone else makes the effort, too. Some more than others, but it's there in everyone. One person just needs to start the initiative going.
Besides, nothing spreads faster than a bad mood.

So I go back in to work tomorrow, starting on my third year at The Hut. I still can't believe it's been that long.

Save 2nd Base!

2010-04-14T14:06:00.000-07:00

This is just a little post to talk about something important to me.

This year, Emily has decided to team up with some of her coworkers and walk the Susan G. Komen Three Day for the Cure. It's sixty miles over three days to support breast cancer research. Think your odds are low? Women have a one-in-eight chance of getting it. If you'd like to donate, go to the link above and search for Emily Wood. You can donate to her from the website, and any amount helps. She needs to raise $2300 in five months.

A good portion of my family have or have had breast cancer, and the chances are high that Emily and I might one day go get a mammogram and be told that there are lumps on our breasts. She is walking for us, for our family, for our friends, and for every man, woman, and child who has ever had to loose someone dear to them to breast cancer. I'm afraid I can't donate a whole lot, but I'd like to do my part and get the word around to as many people as I can. Whether it's $1 or $50, any amount helps. And it isn't just Emily who is raising money. There are dozens of non-profit organizations who are doing all they can to raise money for breast cancer research.

Also, she says I am awesome because Patrick and I went halfsies and bought her a Save 2nd Base shirt to wear while she walks.

She wears a pink ball cap and a pink durag, pink ribbon on her SUV
Its been a long hard fight but she's kicked it twice
cause she don't know the word defeat
She's walkin' for the big cure,
mothers,daughters, sisters-
they're facin' this head on-
talk about being strong

Oh--shes a pink warrior
She's a fighter like her mama always taught to be
Got an army of angels marchin' around with her
She won't give in
Yeah she's gonna win
She's a pink warrior
~Candy Coburn "Pink Warrior"

Oh My. It Has Been A While, Hasn't It?

2010-04-12T13:23:00.000-07:00

The last two weeks have been rather hellish for me, with the exception of the Easter weekend. Last Saturday (not this one that just passed, the other one) we went up to visit Em for birthday celebrations. Patrick and I picked out some lovely merino roving in some bright spring colors for her, since her silk adventure has not been a fun one for her. And, luckily for us and her, we managed to get two batts of the same colorway, which is rare when purchasing from Woolbearers.
Easter Sunday Patrick and I had dinner at my parents' house, which was a nice, quiet affair. The food was delicious, as always. My mom can cook a mean ham.

At work, we have been rather busy. Of course, spring break followed right up the heels of Easter, and I was inundated by parents with young kids, teens, and the normal business of the week. We'd been having some problems with the water over the weekend, and that just dropped a whole dry mess of troubles into our laps. Monday we opened late because our water was off until quarter after 12. Tuesday the water came back on right before we opened at 11, which was alright. Wednesday, it didn't come back on until 12 (we opened at 11 anyway and just kept the dining room closed). Unfortunately, when we ran the water to clean out the mud, the water kept running yellow. So, battling with unhappy customers all afternoon, we kept the dining room closed, washed our hands and cooked with bottled water, and Matt called the water company with annoying frequency to figure out what the hell was going on.
I don't know why we didn't just close outright, even our soda fountain wasn't working because of the water running wrong. The water didn't start running clear until just after 2 in the afternoon.
That was an adventure.

In general, though, our business has picked up pretty steadily until it has become rather a clusterfuck for me to handle most days. Matt's finally picked up on that and is now scheduling a second server to help me Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Fridays have always had two day servers. Monday I'm still on my own, which is okay. Splitting the dining room with another worker also means splitting the possible tips. Today I made just over $50, which is darn good for a Monday.

Upon our return from Boston, I must report a terrible thing occurred. A knitting tragedy, this. Kobold, so excited that we were finally back home, ran laps of the apartment like a nutcase. During one of them, he snagged my Evenstar-in-progress off of my bedside table and snapped the yarn that connected the lace to the cone. From there, he rand around with it hanging out of his mouth for a few seconds before I caught up to him and was thoroughly distressed. It was broken in many places, and had begun unraveling. I had to start over. Again. I was terribly upset, but could not blame him entirely for being overexcited. I do, however, blame him for targeting my knitting.
I am afraid to get too far into knitting it, because now disaster seems to follow this project wherever it goes.

Well, I must go and prepare dinner (BLT for me, BLP [pickles] for Patrick, the tomato-hater) and then Patrick and I have a quick errand to run before D&D tonight.

Of PAX and Pox: Part One

2010-03-30T17:08:00.000-07:00

Let me preface this inevitably long post with a blunt statement:

PAX (Penny Arcade Expo) was a ridiculous amount of fun.

I do not wish to fill this post with many many pictures, so if you would like to see more than I share, email me and I will send them to you.

The drive up to Boston started at 6:30 in the morning. It has been a looooooooong time since I was last up that early.

This is what the sky outside of Bob's apartment looked like at about six a.m. when I was taking my things out to the car. Patrick and I spent the night at Bob's with Caryn so that we were all guaranteed to be up at the same time. If Caryn doesn't want you to sleep, you don't sleep. Trust me.
The drive up took us about..... Hmm. I'd say about six hours, counting rest stops so Caryn's and my overactive bladders could relieve themselves. We were officially on the road--we got onto the NJ Turnpike--at around 7:30. From there it was pretty much straight north to the George Washington bridge into New York. By the way, traffic in NY sucks. Massively. Once we were out of NY it was on to Connecticut, the smallest little state that goes on forever. Seriously. You look at a map of the US and think, "Oh, Connecticut isn't really that big!" But when you drive through it, it goes on forever. Just boring trees and hills.
At least, on the highway.
I did a lot of knitting on the way up, working on my sweater. I think I managed to get about 7-10 inches knit on it. That's the back, basking on my lap in a bit of feeble sunlight. Connecticut was having a bout of cloudiness on Thursday.

The hotel that Bob booked for us was gorgeous, and very very high-class. We felt a little awkward because everyone else who seemed to be staying at the Fairmont Copley Plaza were all dressed in business-casual at the most laid-back. It was a little disconcerting when we discovered it was valet-parking only. We were also slightly disconcerted at the service and the room. It was far and away beyond our expectations, and I was very impressed. The room was gorgeous and large, and three of us could stand comfortably in the bathtub. Everything in the bathroom was marble/granite and get this: they had drying lamps in there! That was kind of strange to me.

We tried our hardest not to use or touch anything we didn't absolutely need, as the hotel would drain your blood charging you for the incidentals. There was a king-sized snickers bar in the snack basket they provided. Normally, they're a little over a dollar. If you ate the one provided for you, they would charge you $5. Yeah, we thought that was a bit much.

We spent pretty much the rest of Thursday wandering around and getting lost in the intricately connected malls and hotels that make up what seemed to be Boston's central hub. We found the convention center so that we weren't wandering around lost on the first day. We made people around us nervous with our loud New Jersey talking. We discovered a wonderful little Japanese noodle restaurant called Wagamama, which is apparently really huge in the UK and only has one location in the US. That is, Boston.

Friday morning, we were up and getting in line for the Opening of the Doors at around 11, forgetting that on Friday the doors don't open until 2. That was okay, as we all had our gameboys and cell phones and of course there were "swag bags" that had lots of advertisements for us to look at. When the doors finally did open at 2, we were swept along into the line to the Expo Hall.
Let me take a moment to explain how PAX worked.
There was, as a main sort of attraction, the Expo Hall. This is where game developers and various other brand names set up shop to show off all their latest demos for new games and give out free swag to people who said "Ooh this looks cool." As I said, there are demos to play and people in "the biz" to talk to and all kinds of other fans to chat with and have serious, deep conversations about video games with. Or, you know, say, "Ooh this looks cool" together.
Orbiting around the Expo Hall were a variety of tables set up by independent tabletop developers such as Zombie Dice. And, circling likes hawks mapping out a varied and very interesting schedule, were the panels.
The panels were interesting, and covered many different topics. From self-explanatory names like "It Has a Good Beat, and I Can Kill Zombies to It" (a panel I sat in about music in video games) and the more obscure titles like "Greetings from a Dead-Tree Dinosaur Cartoonist v1.1" (a panel from newspaper comic artist Bill Amend [of FoxTrot fame]) they tried and were mostly successful at creating a panel for everyone. They brought in people from all over the place to talk about games, their development, the music, the art, the technical side, the history, the future, and everything in between.
But, back to the Expo Hall.

Caryn and Bob escaped to go do some exploring on their own, and Patrick and I continued to wander for a bit before I had to depart for my music panel. It was there that I discovered Mike Krahulik, the artist behind the webcomic that started the entire convention, Penny Arcade. He was sneaking around the hall and I spotted him instantly, and asked as politely as my excited mind would allow (I admire this guy's art skillz. They seriously rock) for a picture. He then prompted me for a picture with him, which I was equally excited about. To quote him, "Well, you obviously know I'm a real person, but now you can prove that you actually saw me here."
Patrick of course took it as I was laughing, so I am making a funny face.

Unfortunately, due to a combination of rapid climate changes and being in the close vicinity of literally thousands of strange people who were all lumbering sacks of viral hell, I have contracted a thing. It's not quite a cold, but it's not the flu. My sinuses and my throat are protesting, but my throat could still be protesting from my loud and profuse cheering at the Saturday night concert. Returning to work in such a state is unpleasant at best, and downright miserable at worst on a day like today.
Today, I was ten minutes late to work because a cop decided he was going to stop me and try to claim I was truant, which is being a minor and skipping mandatory school. I haven't been able to be considered truant in three years. I have been stopped before, because apparently I look like I'm 14. I was more annoyed that this particular officer has stopped me twice before this and still didn't believe I am 20.
Then I got to work, and we got visited by the DM. He is a nice guy, but him being there is stressful and it makes Matt the Store Manager turn magically into a raging douchebag.
Then the FSA (Food Safety Administration) lady came in to do her inspection. Matt the Douchebag abandoned me up front for two hours straight because of this. (We passed the inspection, though, which is very good.)
And then I walked home in the rain, because Patrick was running very late getting out of work.
When I walked in the door, I found that Kobold had somehow managed to shift his cage around on the carpet and had torn a hole in the pillow we keep in his cage. Also that he had torn most of the stuffing out.
It was not a good day for me.

However, this ends the first PAX post. I shall continue the rest tomorrow.

"That thing has my things! He's got his slimy mitts all over my doodads! He's touching my junk! No one touches Oghren's junk and get's away with it!"
~Ohgren, from Dragon Age: Awakening

Daffadowndilly

2010-03-23T19:40:00.001-07:00

I promised there would be knitting in this post, so here we go.

To start, I'm sorry I don't have any pictures. My camera is being fidgety and now it needs batteries, so I can't transfer any pictures onto my XD card to put on my computer. Grr. But Evenstar is chugging along slowly. I'm halfway through clue number two on my third try. My eyes can only handle so much lace at a time, and since they are adjusting to new reading/knitting glasses, I have to be careful with them. So, to ease the burden and since I can't always knit something as complicated as Evenstar, I have cast on a sweater.
It's a simple little pull-over hoodie, and I'm making it in a fairly light merino/alpaca/mohair/acrylic. It's Moorland yarn, from Classic Elite Yarns, in a heathered purpley-blue color. The pattern is from a little box of patterns called Knitting to Go by Kris Percival. One of my mom's coworkers gave it to her a little while ago, and she passed it on to me. It's got a lot of cute patterns, and I fully intend on knitting most of them.

Caryn and I saw Repo Men tonight, partly because it fascinated us (she saw the original rock opera version, though I passed) and partly because we are both rather infatuated with Jude Law. He is in fine form for this movie, but if you're squeamish at all, I recommend skipping out on this one. They do not spare you blood and guts as they cut open their clients and remove the organs they have not paid for. Trust me, I spent most of the movie cringing.

We leave for Boston and PAX on Thursday. Early morning, around five-ish. I am totally looking forward to this trip, I've been needing a vacation. When we get back on Sunday, I pretty much have to unpack and go straight into the shower because I open Monday morning, but I'll survive. Next week Bob and I are going to make plans to go purchase our instruments.

Oh, I didn't say? We decided for the fun route. Last Thursday Bob and I went to a music store called Sam Ash and wandered around looking lost until I found a guy who looked like he belonged in the guitar section. He was incredibly friendly and generally a nice person. We told him that we were total novices and wanted something we could learn on that would last for a little while. He asked what music we liked, and led us to our ideal instruments. He explained why they were ideal, and what to expect from the package deals which were our best bet. He gets a +50 on his scorecard from me and Bob.
We also browsed a nearby store called Guitar Center, where the workers fit into the 'scene' so well we didn't really feel like we could talk to them on any kind of novice level. Everyone in the store seemed to have this 'I'm so much better than you' vibe and so we left. -50 points.

Other than that, there is no real news. Patrick has moved to a new Friendly's that is nearby and is giving him nothing but managing day hours, so his paychecks are going to be going up slightly. Also, now that I've changed my schedule to have weekends and most nights off, we see each other awake more often. It's nice.

Spring is finally starting to peek around the corner, dragging the rain in headfirst. We've gotten quite a bit lately, but the flowers are starting to bloom. First the crocuses and now the daffodils, soon the tulips and the lily of the valley. And after that? The mulberries will start to grow and all the summer flowers will start waking up.

She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
"Winter is dead."
~Daffadowndilly, A.A. Milne

It's a Quandary.

2010-03-11T15:00:00.000-08:00

I have a question to pose to you people who read my blog (few though you may be). Hear the whole story before you make a comment.

It has been my mostly unspoken wish to learn a musical instrument. I have dabbled with a few woodwinds, but my love of singing has led me to fall in love with an instrument that leaves my mouth free.
I want to learn to play the bass.
I have wanted this since about my freshman year of high school (about six or seven years). Before you ask, Mom, I never really said much about it because I couldn't ask you to buy me one and I didn't have the money to save for it, so I put it aside out of my mind.
My tax return is enough to do a few things with: purchase the much-needed vacuum cleaner, the responsible savings deposit for emergencies, and the much wanted fun purchase. I don't often buy myself things more expensive than books as presents, especially since now I'm paying for rent, and electricity, and food. But I know a few places that sell bass packs that include instruction books (or dvds, in some), a decent bass, an amp, and a few other accessories for $300 and under. I am on the brink of decision either way: to splurge, or not to splurge? One of the only things keeping me from going ahead and shopping for a bass is the fact that even if I learned, who would I play with? Playing by myself wouldn't be as much fun as if I knew a friend who could play guitar or something else.
Cue Bob, my go-to guy when I'm undecided on something. He has a knack for putting things in perspective and playing both sides of the issue at hand so that each point of view gets a fair consideration. On this instance, though, he is biased: he has harbored a vaguely secret desire to learn guitar since about the same point in his life (he is two years older than I am).
So, here's the thing. Now we suddenly both have reasons to do this thing that we have long dreamed of. With similar tastes in music and schedules that fit together decently well, we'd even have time to get together and learn every once in a while. We could do it, Bob and I could learn guitar and bass.
We should both save the money and use it for something different, but how often can we say we have the money to get ourselves something that we've wanted for so long? I talk myself out of this stuff so much, convincing myself that it's better if I don't splurge.
What do you guys think?

I'm so indecisive...

Knitting in the next post, I promise. Evenstar is finally back on the rails.

2010-03-06T06:04:00.000-08:00

I finally filed my taxes today. I'm getting about $750 back between state and feds, which is pretty good. Turns out I made just over $12,000 dollars last year, which makes me wonder where it all went because I don't feel like I really made that much, but spread out over a twelve-month period it's much less than it seems. Also, the state really wants my money; I'm only getting $65 from them. Jerks.

Since I have been recovering from a mind-numbing cold, Evenstar has not progressed at all since I ripped out last weekend. I plan on working on it today, but we'll see how that goes. I'm going to drag Patrick out to Walmart and Target to look for shelving units. I feel slightly bad for saying this, but I still have several boxes that were never unpacked. We have the room to put all our stuff out, we just don't have the surfaces to put them on. So, book shelves. Also, I'm not nearly as bad as Em. She's been in her house for two years and she's still got boxes she hasn't opened yet.
If worst comes to worst, I'm off tomorrow and I'll try and catch up before clue #3 is released next Friday.

D&D hasn't happened at all in the last month. Bob's parking lot doesn't get plowed (stupidly) so when we got fifteen yards of snow in two weeks, it was impossible for us to park. In fact, until just recently there was still a good foot and a half in some places. Also, being snowed in means that Bob's apartment has reached a critical dirty state, so he took last week to get it back into shape. Hopefully we'll start playing again on Monday, I miss D&D.

I found my Oregon Trail 2 disc the other day, and installed it on Patrick's desktop since Vista won't run such an old program. We've been playing on and off all week. The most hilarious, depressing death so far? Bob nearly drowned, and then two weeks later died of dehydration. I got accidental bullet wounds a lot.

Hope your weekend goes smoothly.

"... This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day..."
~Henry V; iv:iii (Shakespeare)

Rockstar

2010-02-28T07:48:00.001-08:00

Well, my arm is feeling better little by little, though it is still very sore and I wake up feeling stiff and arthritic. On my doctor's orders I'm not allowed to life anything over five pounds with my right (read: dominant) arm for two weeks, and that means restricted duty at work. Did you know a gallon of milk weighs about eight pounds? A super-supreme pizza, in the pan, weighs about that. I asked the cook to weigh one for me, out of curiosity, and it was seven-point-something-small pounds. That's a heavy pizza! I can't do part of my side work right now, either, since I can't carry the ice bucket in one arm (it's too large around) and I can't lift everything I need to fill the salad bar. I do my best, though, and pray that my coworkers don't want to kill me before my two weeks is up. Also, I can't work the cut table because it requires far too much movement and lifting.
I think that next time I go shopping I'm going to pick up a bottle of vitamins; it's something I have been considering for a long time and finally decided to go through with. I'm not a big fan of taking pills, and four times out of five I'd rather suffer through my colds than take anything for them. But I keep thinking things like, "What if I had fallen differently? What if the table had hit me at a slightly different angle?" And the answer is that I could have broken my arm, or done something equally horrible to my shoulder. I don't like milk plain, if I drink it it usually has to be with chocolate syrup in it or in a bowl of cereal. I know I don't get quite the right balance of vitamins and minerals and healthy things from my every day food, though I do tend to eat pretty healthy. I beat myself up a lot. I used to say, "I play hard." But that's not true, I do everything hard. I am an extreme sort of person that way. Walking isn't walking, it's balancing on the curb or skipping cracks in the sidewalk. I don't run, I sprint full-out. My bike goes over more bumps and holes than is probably good for the rims. Weak bones and vitamin deficiencies are not conducive to letting me continue to do those sorts of things.
Vitamins are not a bad thing.
Just keep telling myself that, and I'll start getting into a routine of taking them.

In other news, I had to rip back my Evenstar shawl. I realized that one of the wonky stitches (kfb7-k3tog) was a stitch off-center on the first needle, and that all the subsequent repeats of the pattern were also off-center. I was without a lifeline, and drowning in dread. So, I sucked it up, removed the circular, and hoped for the best. Sitting peacefully on the couch (Kobold was on the floor with his new bone and Patrick was asleep) I carefully began to pull out the cobweb stitches. It took me almost an hour and there were a few heart-stopping minutes, but I finally managed to rip back to the start of the pattern. I need to even out the stitches and figure out where the round starts--though I have a pretty good idea of where that is--but I am back at round 1, my dpns at the ready to start over. Clue #2 came out on Friday, and yesterday I picked up the copy that my mom printed for me. Now that I don't have to wrestle with the cast-on, I think I can catch up fairly easily. I also need to post on the ravelry group.
I always forget to do that. I joined ravelry mostly for the patterns, and I usually end up forgetting it exists until my mom asks if I've seen such-and-such's post, or if I had joined so-and-so's group.

In other-other news, Patrick and I went to Petsmart yesterday to get another bag of food and some more toys for Kobold. Because he is, like, 100% herding dog, he's really freaking smart, and he has a ton of energy. We shave a lot of that energy down by taking him out on regular walks and runs, and we play with him a lot. But at the end of the day, we can only do so much. And he's so smart he gets into trouble. So I did some research online about German shepherds and Border Collies, and people who own them said that they learn tricks very easily, and like to show off for people. The more complicated tricks you teach them, one woman said, the more brain power they're using on getting you to praise them and the less likely they are to tear up your house out of boredom. One guy said that for his Shepherd he'd made a toybox, and over the course of a few months had built up a little store of various toys. Every week or two he'd cycle out the current toys for other ones, so that his dog would have "new" toys to play with and he wouldn't get tired of the ones he had.
These were both great ideas, and so I brought them up to Patrick. He agreed, and we got him a new rope thing and another bone. He enjoys playing tug of war with the rope thing. The bone is... well, the bone is his kryptonite. He will do anything for that rawhide lump. It's doggy crack to him, I swear. He whined when I took it away because he kept trying to bury it down the back of the couch cushions. He insisted on taking it with him when I took him for a walk. He goes crazy for this bone. We've decided to only give it to him when he's being very good, or else he'll be done with it in a matter of days.
We've also taught him to sit, lay down, roll over, and stand. Patrick wants to get him to play dead.

Em and Jim are coming down tonight to have dinner since they didn't show up for my dad's birthday. We're going to a local Chinese restaurant that we frequent. The people there know us by name and they often stop and chat with us when they aren't busy. Everyone who works there is very nice. Patrick and I are going as well, since we both have today off. I'm excited, I haven't seen Em and Jim in a while, and despite what I say to her frequently, I do love my sister.

Oh, and one last thing. I was chatting with my female coworkers about a month or two ago and we were talking about how we miss out prom dresses. There's nowhere for us to wear them. I relayed the conversation to my mom, and she told me about Prom Dress Parties, where girls will gather, all dressed up, and have a general good time. I have been thinking on this idea for a long time, and I think I'd like to host a prom dress party/high tea. Any thoughts?

Here's hoping your weekend wraps up well.

Sometimes I walk a little faster in the school hallway
Just to get next to you
Some days I spend a little extra time in the morning
Just to impress you
Guess you don't notice
Guess you don't need this
Sad you're not seeing
What you're missing
On the outside shying away
On the inside dying to say
I'm unsual, not so typical,
Way too smart to be waiting around.
Tai chi-practicing, snow board champion,
I can fix the flat on your car.
I might even be a rock star.
~Miley Cyrus, "Rock Star"

Brauhaus Schmitz

2010-02-22T05:34:00.000-08:00

It's been a fairly busy week at work, in general, though that is hardly news. But here's something you might not have expected if you haven't eaten at my particular Pizza Hut: our dining room set (tables, booths, etc) is just about twenty years old. This, of course, means that the padding in the booths is worn almost entirely out, the tables are starting to lose their varnish (which makes them slightly tacky feeling, no matter what we do to scrub them down), and everything is just kind of in a general state of (clean!) disrepair. Well, this means that things break from time to time. Like the tables. When you lean against them.
If you're catching my drift, you'll realize that this means I broke a table at work. On Saturday night, as part of closing down one side of the dining room, I was sweeping under neath all the tables. Well, our cook came up front to chat with me, because she's getting married in a few weeks, and she's going to go get her dress. We were talking about styles and weddings in general, when I went to lean against the booth table F2. Not sit on, lean against. I didn't get to put all my weight on it before it tilted and I was going down.
As it turns out, the tables against the walls are just pressboard on a straight-arm support and held on with a few screws and wood glue. When my weight landed on it, the part of the table that was screwed into the wall broke (the pressboard split) and it was too much for just the support screw to hold. So, I went down with this table against my back. According to Audrey and Alyssa I fell quite gracefully, but the table bruised by upper arm up pretty badly. It swelled up immediately, and was darkening in minutes. I laughed it off and treated my arm easy for the rest of my shift (only about half an hour) and went home. Sleeping on it was hard because every time I rolled over onto it it hurt. And by the time I woke up and was on my way to work, the whole right side of my back was stiff and sore. I found a gauze pad and some bandages at work and wrapped up my arm to protect it. There isn't any broken skin, but some compression and a little padding helped me get through the day. You'd be surprised how much you don't realize you beat up your body until you hurt an integral part of it. Since my right arm is my dominant one, it made working hard. I have a hard time lifting anything much more than five pounds, that that's just about everything that I do at work.
But I'll heal. Some bengay and aspirin will help that along, and hopefully I won't be gimped for too long. Thank god I have off today.

In other news, Bob's birthday is Tuesday and so we all (read: a group of about eight of us) went to a German beerhouse named Brauhaus Schmitz. It was an amazing place. A bit expensive, but not ridiculous. The food definitely could have cost more than it did and everything I had was delicious. In fact, I had something called Gemusespatzle, (pictured left, sorry for the blur)
which is a potato pasta served in a cream sauce with seasonal vegetables (artichokes, which I promised myself I'd try and tolerated), mushrooms, and carmelized onions. Patrick had Wiener Schnitzel, which is a veal cutlet served with something I forget. For an appetizer, we got Kartoffelpuffer, which are potato pancakes served with sour cream and apple sauce. For dessert, I had blackforest cake, which had definitely been made with some kind of alcohol.
And oh, the alcohol. I, of course, couldn't order any drinks as I was the only underaged person there. However, that didn't stop me from trying everything that was ordered. Since everyone there were pretty much comfortable with each other, everything got passed around. Drinks, food... it's a good thing that none of us were sick except for Patrick, who didn't share with anyone. Caryn got blackberry schnappes, which was sweet and tasty, but man did it deliver a slap to the face. Bob got his first beer (Ayinger Celebrator Doppelblock) free because twice he ordered and they didn't have what he wanted. Reid, someone new to the blog and an old friend from highschool, got Jever pilsner, which was pretty mild. Dan got another pilsner, a wheat beer that unexpectedly tasted like apples. It was all really delicious, and we all spent the night laughing and chatting over the kind of kitschy german music playing over the sound of the patrons.
Oh, and some people might not know this, but Germans have this thing with David Hasselhoff. They love him, and no one knows why. We came up with a new euphamism for using the bathroom last night due to a picture of hasselhoff hung above the toilet. Going to the bathroom is now "hasseling the hoff". Dan went to the bathroom and came back saying, "David Hasselhoff was watching me pee." We were amazed at this. Caryn has a picture of the picture on her phone. But the worst part isn't that The Hoff is staring down at your back as you use the facilities, no. It's because the picture is reflected back at you in the mirror above the sink. You are being watched on all sides as you pee by David Hasselhoff. It's a little disconcerting.

I'm going to finish off the post with some pictures of the night. Hope your week starts off well!

PS: Dad, be proud of me. I tried authentic German sauerkraut, and it was terrible.

The Possibilities are Never Ending

2010-02-17T06:08:00.001-08:00

It was a very busy three-day weekend for me, since the clearer weather and the holidays (who the hell puts two holidays back-to-back like that?!) had people coming out of their hobbit holes in droves. Both ovens ran at full capacity on Saturday, both full to a dangerous level. I was CSR on Saturday, so it was my job to handle those full ovens. By the time I was done, the cold air had never felt nicer on my sweaty face. Sunday I was supposed to close as a server, but we were so busy that I spent most of the night clocked in as a CSR. Kelsey, the girl who was supposed to do it, is still a little new and doesn't move fast enough at the cut table to handle that kind of a rush, so she served instead. Everyone after the opening server stayed at least an hour late on Sunday to help out. You'd think there'd be a lull after dinner on Valentine's Day, you know? People going home to do romantic things like cuddle by a fireplace or watch sappy movies. Nope! When I clocked over to server at 8:30, we were still pretty freaking busy. My last table didn't leave until 10:40. We close at 10. I didn't leave until almost 11:30.
Monday was a hell of a day, being President's Day in the US and therefor an off-from-school holiday. On top of all that normal business, our cook was a no-call no-show and the manager had to do all his work instead. I was left up front with another server, and we didn't stop moving. At 3:30 I clocked over to production (different minimum wage pay) and just did dishes for an hour. I was supposed to be out at 4, but I ended up staying to make sure that they didn't have a massive amount of dirty stuff taking up the dish cart for the dinner rush. I managed to get it all done, and my manager was greatly appreciative.
Yesterday was a welcome reprieve from all the business. We were still pretty steady for most of the day, but since we had a cook, and I had the new girl with me, we were still doing pretty good. I'm hoping that today goes equally smoothly, and then I can spend my day off tomorrow being productively lazy. I plan on, as a maximum, doing a load or two of laundry, straightening up around the apartment, and then the rest of my day is going to be occupied with video games, knitting, and playing with Kobold.

Speaking of knitting, I think I've finally gotten the Evenstar cast on correctly. We'll see. I'm not far into the beginning (circular cast-ons are so hard!) but I'll post pictures when I've successfully completed the increase rows. I broke down last week and ordered myself a set of options from knitpicks, and then went to p2tog and got myself the US size 2 tips for it. I've skipped down a size because my yarn is cobwebby, and I think it looks and handles better that way.

My mom recently got a new baby-mp3 player for when she goes to the gym, and she mentioned setting it up with music to work out to. I listen to a lot of music, because, like most people, my mood and pace are usually attuned to the music I'm listening to. So that when I'm tired, or moving slowly, I put on something upbeat and faster, and I can usually get myself moving with it. I utilize this strategy a lot when I open at pizza hut in the mornings. It doesn't matter how long I've been awake, I will not come fully awake until around 11:00 AM. Lately, I've been listening to a song by Jaret Reddick (of Bowling for Soup fame) called Endless Possibilities. It is, at its most basic setting, a positive song. And then add in the fact that it has a catchy tune, and I'm singing along merrily. What songs get your feet tapping?

This is my escape
I'm running through this world
And I'm not looking back
'Cause I know I can go
Where no one's ever gone
And I'm not looking back

But how will I know when I get there?
And how will I know when to leave?
We've all got to start from somewhere
It's right there for me
The possibilities are never ending

I see it, I see it
And now it's all within my reach
Endless possibility
I see it, I see it now
It's always been inside of me
And now I feel so free
Endless possibility

And so I'll carry on
My time to shine has come
I feel it
As fast as I can go
Straight to the top I know
You’ll see it

So please wake me up when I get there?
It feels like I’m lost in a dream
I know in my heart that it’s my time
And I already see
The possibilities are never ending

I see it, I see it
And now it's all within my reach
Endless possibility
I see it, I see it now
It's always been inside of me
And now I feel so free
Endless possibility

Drop that smile
‘Cause you’re beaten again
No this is where
My journey begins
You're losing speed, you're losing your flow
But inside me is a power you'll never know!
Better let it out, it's inside you!
Better all stand back, 'cause I'm coming through!

I see it, I see it
And now it's all within my reach
Endless possibility
I see it, I see it now
It's always been inside of me
And now I feel so free
Endless possibility
I see it, I see it
And now it's all within my reach
Endless possibility
I see it, I see it now
It's always been inside of me
And now I feel so free
Endless possibility

(Endless Possibility)
Endless Possibility
(Endless Possibility)
Endless Possibility

Who came up with the name "snowpocalypse" anyway?

2010-02-09T20:57:00.000-08:00

Well, our second round of Snowpocalypse 2010 has started, and four hours into the snow and we've already got quite an accumulation. It's really coming down out there. Over on the left is a tree outside my front door, posing in its snowy getup. Across the road there were two people who live in my building making a snowman. Kobold showed interest, and since he likes the snow, I took him across to say hello.

Now, the snow over there hasn't been touched by any one since it fell on Friday. When Kobold made it across the road, the snow came up to his shoulders. That didn't stop him, though. He just kept bounding around chasing the snowflakes. It's easy to play with him in this kind of weather. Apparently all you have to do is kick some snow in his face. He chases it, and tries to catch it, and he especially loves eating it. In fact, he knows I love him because I stepped outside to fill his bowl with snow for him to munch on.

New Jersey has apparently declared a state of emergency for seven counties that are being snowed on right now. The main, important things behind this announcement are the fact that now the state can use state money to help pay for all the plowing and other weather-appropriate functions; and that now it is illegal to be driving unless you absolutely have to. Somerdale hasn't started plowing yet, but all the idiots who are still out driving are managing to push some snow around. In a bad way, of course.

Also, the state of emergency means that Pizza hut isn't supposed to open. That doesn't mean that we won't, but we aren't supposed to. I've already told my manager that if we can't dig Patrick's car out I'm not making it in. I am NOT walking there. Ain't no way in hell.

I'll finish off the brief, snow-laden post with a cute snow-dog picture.

Can you see how deep in the snow he is? Yeah. We're getting another 8 inches on top of that.

Savior of the Day?

2010-02-07T18:54:00.000-08:00

I would love to join the droves of East Coast residents in making lovely posts about how much snow we got and how pretty it sits untouched in the yard, but I didn't have time to take final shots of my aunt and uncle's lovely house. They have an enormous yard, and their property backs up onto a small local lake. There are steps that lead down from their back gate to a dock where they keep their canoe and, in fairer weather, will sometimes paddle around enjoying the large lake turtles that I have seen pairs of take down full grown geese.
But anyway.
I didn't have time today to take any lovely photos because shortly after waking up, at around 9, I let the dogs out into the yard. After yesterday's escape, I had resolved to check on them every 15-20 minutes, just to make sure. I doubted that they were stupid enough to jump the (invisible and therefore painful) fence. They get shocked. That's how those fences are supposed to work.
Well, a little after 10, I went to the window out front to check on them, and looked around. And looked. And went out back, and looked around.
And noticed movement in the lake.
Oh, thought I, some geese are fighting and broke a bit of the ice off. No big deal.
And then I looked again. Two black rottweiler heads were sticking up out of the water, swimming around and puffing like steam engines.
My heart started beating so hard I am surprised it didn't tear through my ribs and out of my chest. I ran up the stairs three at a time and threw my sneakers on so fast I tore off the plastic edge off one of the laces. I didn't quite have my coat on as I forced the back door open against the two feet of snow and slid more than ran down the porch steps. Luckily for me the dogs had already broken up a few paths through the snow, and I leaped through it like I was a rabbit, heart and brain going a mile a minute.
How long had they been in there? At least 25 minutes since I last checked on them. Had they been in there that entire time? Breath. Remember to breathe. Get their attention, keep them looking at you. Good, they're still swimming around fairly well. That means that they aren't going numb yet.
I slid down the dock steps on my but, not bothering to take the time to feel for each stair. I plowed through the snow and onto the dock, watching Hocus and Pocus alternately try to get up onto the ice or try to rest on a tree that had fallen in ages ago and had a few remaining branches sticking up out of the water.
Calm down. Call them, see if they can make it out on their own. Call 911, emergency services. No, call Patrick, see if he has a better idea. Patrick tells me to call 911 as I try and coax the dogs out of the water. They're about 50 yards out, but the ice is wet around them now and their hind legs have nothing to hoist their heavy and undoubtedly cold bodies out with. Keep them focused on me.
Call 911.
911, what is your emergency?
My dogs are in the lake. (breathe, calm down. Hocus, Pocus! Hey, guys! Come on!)
What happened?
I have two dogs, they jumped the fence, and they climbed out onto the lake behind the house and fell through the ice.
Okay, stay calm. What is your address?
(What is the address? Find some mail, run fast. There's a letter in the front room) I'm at -----.
What lake is this?
I don't know, I don't remember which one it is.
Is it -----?
Yes, yes I think so. (Breathe. Calm down, steady your voice. Where are the dogs? Okay, I still see their heads)
Okay. What is your name?
Kate. Kate Wood.
And what phone number are you calling from?
----------. (What do they need my number for? Please, just send someone out now!)
Okay. I'm sending emergency services. You don't have to hang up if you don't want to.
I have to, I have to call my uncle and tell him.
Okay. If you can, go stand out by the road so you can flag down the trucks.
Okay. Okay, thank you.

One last long look at the dogs, and I start the long run through the high snow back up to the road. The house sits back away from the street, with a long driveway connecting it. Call my uncle. His phone goes straight to voicemail, shit. The run there completely winded me, and I crouched on my haunches, trying to steady my breathing and crying. I call Patrick, let him know what happened, and he says that his mom (with her 4-wheel-drive jeep) is picking him up and taking him over. He'll be here soon.
Calm down. It's been ten minutes, can the trucks get down this road? It's twisty and sloped, and still pretty treacherous. Give them more time. How are the dogs, are they okay?
I make the journey back to the lake, slowing down at the fence and calling to them once more, just to make sure they're still responding. They are.
By this point, just as I'm halfway back to the road, I watch as a fire truck drives past, not knowing where to turn because I wasn't there. My heart stops. Will they turn around? What do I do? Try my uncle again. Calm down, wait. Hands in your pockets, you won't do any good with numb hands. Why didn't you bring gloves?
Oh, yeah. You weren't expecting to have to rescue the dogs from the frozen lake.
Three minutes later, the truck returns and I flag them down. A guy jumps out, and starts talking. Where are the dogs? How long have they been in the water? I take him down to the dock, and explain what happened.
Are these your dogs?
No, I'm house-sitting for my uncle and aunt, they're the owners.
Have you contacted them?
I tried, but the phone is off.
Okay, don't worry. We do do ice rescues. I'm going to get my guys suited up, we'll have them out of there in no time.

I follow him back up to the truck. My legs are so tired from crossing the yard that I'm running entirely on adrenaline. I watch the firemen moving around, one guy going to shovel off the steps and the dock to make room for the men going out to get the dogs. Two guys start putting on insulating suits and large plastic jumpsuits. They grab a mysterious tube-shaped bag and a large plastic rescue sled (they look like the orange things from Baywatch. Remember them?). I follow these two back out to the dock, and watch them begin. One man, harnessed and roped , slides belly down onto the ice on his sled, slowly approaching the dogs. He makes it to the break, and slides into the water. Hocus, the male, gets put on the sled first. He sits quiescently as they tow him back to the dock, which worries me greatly. I move aside and run back to the house, opening the door and running my fastest through the house to grab as many towels and blankets as I can find.
They carry Hocus inside and lay him down. He can't walk on his own, and we cover him quickly in towels, patting him dry as fast as we can.
Don't rub them, one guy advises. If the outermost blood vessels have started to freeze, the crystal shards in their veins will start to slice open the interiors with too much friction.
Pocus is faring much better than Hocus, and once she gets onto solid ice, runs away from her rescuers. I have to go outside and call her in. Meanwhile, the chief has pulled out a thermal body-wrap blanket, and we wrestle Hocus into it. It will deflect his own heat back into him, warming him up faster, the chief explains. Hocus is so cold that his shivering feels like I'm sitting on a vibrating massage pad. I stuff a towel under his head and rub his face down with another one, petting him and talking to him the whole time. Pocus lays herself down on a furry blanket and starts to lick herself dry, so I cover her with a blanket as well and go back to Hocus.
He's doing way worse than I had hoped. He's barely moving except for the shivering (which is good, shivering is good. It means that his body is trying to warm itself up. He's not in shock yet).
Pocus is my next target and I scratch her head and talk to her, drying her off and letting her press herself against me. My jacket is wool, and warm, so I open it up and let her steal as much of my heat as I can stand.
The jacket will have to be drycleaned this week, but that's no big loss.
I go back to Hocus, and Patrick arrives. He immediately comes to sit by me, lavishing Hocus with love and attention, making him focus on us. I fill him in, when my mom calls.
Still so pumped with adrenaline, I barely manage to cough out the story to her, and tell her I'll call her back.
One of the guys starts talking to me. Hypothermia is a distinct possibility right now, and I should probably get these two to a vet as soon as I can. Am I the owner?
No, they're my uncle's.
Okay, the vets won't take you if you don't have the owner's permission.
My stomach twists, because with each passing minute, these two could be in more and more trouble. Then the landline rings, and it's my aunt. My mom called them on the road, and told them to call me. I fill her in quickly, and she passes on her credit card number so that we can get them to the vets as soon as possible. They are at least two hours away, in Maryland right now. They'll be there as soon as they can.
Patrick's mom steps up and says, "We'll put them in the back of my car, I'll take them."
Pocus walks quietly with us, once we remove her collar. Hocus struggles when we try to carry him in the bag, so we let him walk on his own and help him jump into the back.
Off we go, to a vet's office about 20 minutes away that does 24-hour emergency visits.
We get them in, and head off. They're shifting around in the back of the car, so at least they feel well enough to move, though Pocus is looking a little lame in the back.
The vet's office was pretty uneventful, lots of paperwork and coaxing Pocus into a muzzle because she was very stressed about people touching her sore spots. Their core temperatures are normal, and aside from some superficial cuts and scrapes they seem to be okay.
My uncle got there at about 3:15, and we were out with some antibiotics for the cuts around 3:30.
The trip home was blessedly peaceful and normal, and I ran inside to grab my stuff before he took me home (Patrick's mom had left earlier to go eat breakfast and care for her own dogs).

Once home, I soaked in a warm shower to defrost my toes (I was briefly afraid that they would never be warm again) and put on some dry clothes. I spend most of the afternoon in wet, snow-soaked pants, and it was nice to wear a pair of dry underwear and sweatpants. Never underestimate the comforting effect of changing into warm, dry clothing after an ordeal. I had intended to cook chicken and dumplings for dinner, but Patrick and I were so drained after all of the excitement that we just decided to go out. We picked up some Boston Market and came home. We've spent most of our time home so far on the couch, relaxing and regaining some energy since we both have work tomorrow.

I just know that I'm going to be feeling all that snow-running tomorrow. Oh, did I mention I have to walk to work as well? Most likely in the road, since I guarantee half of the sidewalks won't be shoveled.

"A good snow machine will cost $2,00 and last four to five years. With dogs, you've got regenerative powers. Snow machines don't have pups.:
~Lou Schultz

Procrastinators Unite!

2010-02-06T06:16:00.000-08:00

Well, I intended to make this post on Tuesday and then I just didn't. But now that the snow has piled up outside to over a foot of snow (it's very hard to judge it properly as the wind is strong and the snow is drifting) I have nothing better to do until I go home tomorrow.
Oh, right. Right now I'm house/pet -sitting for my Uncle and Aunt who are down in Virginia for a birthday party. They only have three animals right now: a very needy and hairy cat named Sneezed who does NOT SHUT UP EVER and two purebred rottweilers name Hocus and Pocus. The dogs are almost entirely outdoor dogs, and are not allowed to roam the house. In all fairness, they are so large that they might accidentally rip up the carpet with some gentle playing, but I feel terrible letting them out into this weather. They probably love it though, and those dogs are huge muscular beasts.
Oh, and a side note here. I just spent half an hour thigh-deep in snow that I was NOT prepared to leap through because my uncle forgot to mention that his dogs escape (despite the invisible fence that shocks them when they get too close) and run down the street to play with the neighbors.
How nice.

But! Onward, to TAWD stories.

Taelir was up early that next morning, kicking in doors and waking everyone up. It was about six in the morning, and Morrigan had been up most of the night studying every book she could find on item enchantment. In the end, she was only able to learn how to fortify things, but that extra strength could be the difference between a shattered shield and one more blocked attack. As everyone trudged downstairs to get whatever breakfast might be had at the Green Tree. We asked a special favor of Daven, the owner, who agreed to help us lead our rag-tag army in return for our help in leaving the town without difficulties. The general strategizing began then, interrupted only a few minutes in by a winded messenger reporting that about 50 Troglodytes were marching on the city, and they would make the walls in an hour. Our talking became fast, and our warlord Kailen demonstrated his leadership abilities well here, and quickly organized everyone into doing what they do best.
Morrigan gathered all of the possible healers she could (four field medics) and set them up at the inn, where she had a few people lining up beds and tearing old sheets into strips for bandages. She also helped herd the women and children into the Captain of the Guard's quarters, where she took a few of the oldest, strongest boys to be stretcher bearers for her.
Eris, being very dexterous and good at ranged attacks, led a small team of archers up to the top of the barrier wall, preparing to meet the force head-on as they passed her to reach the entrance, deterred by Xable's clever illusion. He didn't manage to trick them all away from the wall, though, and a few set to work breaking through the strong wood.
Sel'zanath met this force head-on as they broke through, with Daven and about 50 men to back him up. Eris and her archers managed to take out about 10 of the 30 Troglodytes that passed by her, though she lost just as many archers.
Up at the Western gate, where Kailen and the Captain were waiting with Matthias and the rest of the troops, things were going okay. There was a large cauldron of boiling oil waiting for them to get close enough, and even though the two archers responsible for setting them on fire managed to catch themselves on fire, they also managed to fall to their deaths onto the troglodytes, thereby igniting the oil. So, even though they lost their lives, they still did their job.
Morrigan managed to save most of the archers that were injured; they will lead mostly productive lives, though it is likely that none of them will really ever be able to wield a weapon well again.
Taelir was watching from the background, as he so often does, when down from the southern wall we hear a gigantic crash. Women and children come fleeing from the now-damaged captain's quarters, screaming and terrified. Morrigan managed to direct them to the Inn, which was the next safest place, and our party turned to watch as something that we had hoped we'd left behind at the Pillar faced us down angrily.
The Stairs.
A Behemoth that took the malleable shape of Escher-esque stairs had made its home inside the Northern Pillar of Order. Presumably, it had done this to trick prey into dying within it's maze, but with a bit of luck, we had made it out alive without even knowing that it was a monster we were walking on. After our talk with Theo, as we were fleeing the Pillar, the stairs came alive behind us and began a chase. We ducked through the exit portal and ran for our lives. We never heard anything from that monster again, yet here it was, weeks later, staring us down and ready to fight. With another 20 Troglodytes left at the Northern wall and the Western gate, this was the last thing we needed.
We are divided, flanked, and in trouble.

And that was where we cut off for the night. This week's session might not happen, since the parking lot of Bob's apartment doesn't get plowed and with almost two feet of snow, there are very few people who have a tall enough car to make it through. We'll see, though.

"Give me the strength to carry on
With all our love, we can't go wrong
Only together we face the fight
Nothing can stand against our might

With all our strength the battle's won
With all our love, we can't go wrong
We have the strength to carry on"
~"Carry On" from the American Sailor Moon
It's mostly suiting for the fight... just replace "love" with "sarcasm" or maybe "snarkiness". Possibly even "hesitant trust".

The Story Up Until Now...

2010-02-01T10:45:00.000-08:00

This week there are going to be two posts about D&D. One today, that will catch you up onto what shenanigans we've been up to until now, and then one tomorrow that will detail tonight's session.

The journey started with Taelir and Morrigan, meeting by chance on the road in Bastion. Morrigan, who had just left home, explained to Taelir that she has left the orphanage to travel the plate and learn as much as she could while spreading the word of Frejya and doing the work of Kivati. Taelir tells her that if she travels with him, he plans on visiting all the continents on the plate. Morrigan agrees, and they move on. After a small adventure with some Dwarves, The headed West. After an undisclosed amount of time and difficulty, then end up on the south-eastern coast of Wulfheim, in a port town name Othello. As they depart their ship, the figurative opening sequence rolls and there is a montage of all the players. Selzanath, paddling his little dinghy in to dock with his hands; Matthias, waking up with the most wicked hangover in the bilge of a ship; Eris, slipping down the gangplank with a roguish grin on her face; Khonshu (a genassi swordmage), departing in a standoffish way; Relic (a warforged[read:organic-matter robot] warlock), activating in a crate in the same bilge as Matthias.
There's a short fight with the head of the dock, after which Taelir invites everyone to join his group and work for him. With nothing better to do and a few ulterior motives in evidence, everyone agrees.
They travel north through Wulfheim, fighting, camping, and encountering all sorts of situations. Relic left our party after a little while, deactivating himself as we slept. We defeated a centuries old elf... kind of. He's not really dead, but considering he was about three times our level, I think we did pretty well. Our northward quest took us to the town Sikelkaust, where Nibelung was stirring up trouble in the ports trying to intimidate people in that "Either you're with us or against us" kind of way. We picked up a Githyanki Psion here named Xable Juxtapose, who seems to have a frequency problem between the natural world and the other dimensions. He is constantly slipping in and out of them at random. After a bit of collaboration with the thieves' and the warriors' guilds, we created a diversion and managed to sneak on board the flagship if the Nibelung fleet, where we defeated and killed the captain. With the town relieved of the annoying Nibelung soldiers, some of us (Matthias) partied all night and then we were off in the morning. The ship we were on, the Woglinde sailed out East towards the norther coasts of the Nibelung peninsula. Unfortunately, a little while into our trip we sailed straight into the TAWD equivalent of the Bermuda Triangle and were assaulted by James the Bitchin' Giant Squid. Yes, that is really his name.
He sank our battleship and we woke up pretty much right on the northernmost tip of the peninsula, found by a barbarian from a mixed tribe living just off the coast. We spoke to the leader and she told us about the Sahuagin (big frog-people) who had taken over their temple and stolen the most holy Raiments of the Windfish. Well, says we, we can't let that happen. And off we go after a day of recovery to get rid of the problem.
The Sahuagin take minimal effort, but when we reach the basement and find one doing some terrible evil ritual that makes Morrigan physically ill with the dark energy radiating from it (a sure sign of the Spellplague), we take the fight up a notch, but don't make it in time to stop one from sacrificing itself to the evil swirling vortex of doom. We run for it when the dungeon starts to crumble.
And outside, much to our various horrors and jubilations, we run into a dragon. One of the most evil kind, too. It kicks our butts without much effort, but with some luck and a +10 fire resistance to Patrick, we manage to kill it. The raiments and the much-trashed temple are returned to their rightful owners, we set off to the northern pillar.
There, we find ourselves inside a world of pure, bright white. Surrounded by fantastical ballon-turtle hybrid creatures called Dirigiloons, we make our way upward and encounter what the locals call the Main Stage, an island floating in the middle of the pillar. The inhabitants are all Dragonborn, slightly crazy, who follow a man named Theo, who is a mithril dragon. We go up a few levels to meet him.
Theo challenges us to a fight to see if we are worth of gaining his knowledge. He kicks our butts, but we manage to get a few good hits in on him as well. In the end he wiped the floor with us, but agreed that we could ask him questions. It is from him that we learn that Taelir is searching for people called "Bookmarkers", who know pieces of the location of the "Bookman", keeper of the plate's one, true history. Why we are searching for this person Taelir won't say, but now we at least have some idea of what's going on.
On our way out, we are assaulted by some Escher-esque behemoth stairs and make a run for it.
And run some more.

From there, we head south and slightly west through Nibelung until we reach the town of Grentz near the border of Nibelung and Duskhelm where we have just encountered the troglodytes and roused the entire populace into doing our bidding. It took some skillful bluffing and a few well-placed diplomacy and religion checks, but now they believe that Eris is, in fact, one of the Popes of Nibelung. They follow us devotedly and now we are about to lead them into battle against the remaining troglodytes and the trolls that seem to be controlling them.

I will give you more about tonight's session tomorrow after I get home from work.

"Were you prepared at all for us to pull something like this? The Pope Incident will go down in TAWD history as one of our most ridiculous escapades ever."
"Are you kidding? I've been waiting for you guys to do something like this since we started!"
~Bob and I discussing our antics in Grentz

Reflections on a Snowy Night

2010-01-30T17:32:00.000-08:00

Snow makes the night so bright, it's really cool.
Wow, it doesn't feel as cold out right now as it has been. I guess that's because it's not as windy.
Kobold seems really excited by the snow.
Has he ever been on a walk in the snow before, while it was falling?
Haha, he's such a puppy.
Man, it was a great idea to wear these goggles, I can see without getting snow in my eyes now.
I bet that if I strapped skis to my feet, I could let Kobold drag me down the grass, he's strong enough.

It's been a long weekend at work, thank god I have off tomorrow. Ben and Bob are over right now to play video games with Patrick, I'm going to spectate and cheer them all on as they kill things, maybe start on a pair of socks. I want to try knitting the Jekyl and Hyde socks on my own time.

My Evenstar yarn is apparently on its way. I ordered from Colourmart, some really nice charcoal colored merino that's spun with a bit of silver sparkle, since the Evenstar's light shines brightest in dark times. But about two days after I placed the order, I got an email from Colourmart saying that the yarn was short about 20-30g what they thought it was. Of course they would refund my money, but did I want to cancel that yarn and pick something else instead? I replied that as long as there was still at least 1700y on the cone, I would take it anyway.
The next day, I had an email from Paypal that I'd been refunded the $16 that I had paid for my yarn. Assuming that this meant that there wasn't enough yarn, I went to the website to check out my other options. I somehow navigated my way into my profile, and then into my active orders, and low and behold, the order for that charcoal yarn was put down as shipped.
So.... I'm getting at least 1700y of laceweight merino for free? Wow, neat. They definitely get my return business. They would have anyway, because I'll sacrifice slow shipping for cheaper yarn, but their customer services is excellent. Definitely going back to them.

I don't think I'm going to use the optional beads, because my gaak quotient for this project is filled by never having knit a circular shawl before. I'm excited for this mystery kal.

"This is my escape, I'm running through this world
And I'm not looking back.
'Cause I know I can go where no one's ever gone
And I'm not looking back.
But how will I know when I get there?
And how will I know when to leave?
We've all got to start from somewhere,
It's right there for me.
The possibilities are never-ending!"
~"Endless Possibilities"--Josh Reddick

Monday Night Madness! (It Begins)

2010-01-25T21:18:00.000-08:00

So I decided that, for my own fun and since a few people who read this have expressed a desire to sit in on our sessions (which is difficult to work out) I'm going to make weekly posts about our Monday Night D&D sessions. I think the basic layout of these posts are going to be a summary of last week, this week's story, and then my commentary on it. This may change. But it's going to be fun writing all our adventures out.
Before I do all that, though, I'd like to give you guys an idea of what our world is like in TAWD.

TAWD, the name of our campaign, stands for Turtles All the Way Down. If you have read any of Terry Pratchett's Discworld books, you'll have a clue of what this means. The idea stems from the ------ belief that the world is just a disc sitting on the backs of four elephants, which are in turn sitting on the back of a giant turtle. This turtle, known in TAWD as the Patient One, is swimming silently through the luminescent aether to who knows where.
It would look something like this. The only difference between this illustration and TAWD, though, is that TAWD has three discs on a turtle.
The lowest plate, Hel, supports the base of the four Pillars or Order and also is the base of Mount Chroma, the source of all life on the plates. Resting midway up the Pillars and Mount Chroma is Midgard, the mortal plate. This is where all mortal beings begin their lives. Resting atop the Pillars and held in place by the spire of Mount Chroma is Valhalla, the god-plate. Legend says that if a mortal could climb Mount Chroma to the top, he would become a god. However, even the most obsessed mythologists dismiss this as purely superstition, as the mountain is such that no mortal could hope to reach the top.
But, since our campaign for right now focuses only on Midgard, let me talk about that a little bit more.
First off, a map for you. Yes, I drew it. Isn't it pretty? You can say no, I would agree. But it functions.

So. Starting in the Northwest quadrant of Midgard is the country known as Wulfheim. It is primarily neutral, and it is notably the most racially and religiously integrated country on the plate. Due to many political pressures in the past, most races end up fleeing to this country, which in turn causes tension amongst the many inhabitants and triggering the Race War between the many factions of Wulfheim. Many are afraid to repeat this generations-long war and stick firmly to their beliefs of equality and neutrality, making them the only true republic on the plate. Wulfheim is home to eight primary races: Human, Dwarf, Halfling, Elf, Dragonborn, Genasi, Drow, and Tiefling. The country's flourishing market trade with most other countries exposes it to a wide range of beliefs as well as a large influx of books and magical items, making it one of the better regions to study the arcane arts.

Over in the Northeast quadrant is the hardy nation of Bastion. To approach this country, one must be willing to deal with the high clif face that surrounds all but the Straight of Adonna. Bastion is very much a religious country, predominantly worshiping figures of justice and knowledge (Bahamut and Frejya in partcular) though they accept any religion that does not blaspheme against life. Many of the country's inhabitants are clerics, paladins, and invokers, and most take on either an arcane or a divine profession. The predominant races are Human and Dwarf, with a minority of Elves and Dragonborn. Bastion has virtually no Warlocks, and those that are there have simply not been discovered. This is due to a war between Bastion and the other nation that makes the other side of the Straight of Adonna: Edgewater.
Edgewater was a nation of almost nothing but Warlocks with a smattering of other arcane sorts. Legends claim of the dark rituals they were part of and their attemps to snuff out life on Midgard. Bastion defeated this group, however, and has guarded the ruins of their dark land ever since. Bastion is ruled by a lineage of monarchs who have ruled for generations since the original defeat of Edgewater, and their advisors are traditionally clerics of the House of Adonna, descendants of the first king's companion cleric.

Moving south from there is the jewel-shaped island nation of Tama. Primarily populated by humans, the only other apparent race common to the small country are the Genasi. This is partly due to the isolationist traditions of the inhabitants who feel that such intermingling with other countries will harm the teachings of their heritage. There are no gods worshiped in this nation. Rather, many dedicate themselves to inner harmony via meditation and physical training to master both their minds and bodies.

To the very Easternmost area of Midgard is a small landmass attached to the Easter Pillar known as Germaly. The inhabitants of Germaly defy common logic, their society and economy not backwards, but rather completely outside the realm of understanding. Many of their products result in death with use, and this is generally their intended purpose. Most lands avoid Germaly, though they seem to prosper fine regardless.

Moving into the Southwest of Midgard sits a patch of islands known for their fertile jungle, volcanoes, and laid back inhabitants. These islands are known quite simply as the Burning Isles and are home to a handful of humans, and a primary population of Halflings, Shifters, and a unique subset of Trolls, lankier in appearance, and very laid back. Many alchemical ingredients come from the fertile islands, as well as many intoxicants, both of which are popular exports. This combined with a thriving tourist trade keeps the Burning Islands in a state of prosperous neutrality.

The central continent wraps around Mount Chroma and is therefor central on the plate. A small mountainous region divides the western side of the mountain and a swampy river area divides the east, both places being used as the borders between the warring nations of Nibelung and Duskhelm. Nibelung, sitting on the Northeast sections of the central continent, is a land of pious fanatacism. They consider their war with Duskhelm a holy war, serving Bahamut and Ra in wiping evil from the face of Midgard. They have the largest and most powerful military on the Midplate, their forces kept at bay due to the monstrous creatures that roam Duskhelm's plains. Nibelung consists of Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and as a minority, Dragonborn.
The plains of Duskhelm sit on the southwestern side of the central continent, a shroud of darkness keeping the country in perpetual twilight. Here roam the Drow, Tieflings. Rakshasa, Orcs, and other creatures otherwise considered maligned. Contrary to what one would expect, Duskhelm has a unified form of government, with a monarch sitting at its top. This person is known as the Baron of Duskhelm, a terrifying entity given the nickname "The Lord of Nightmares", as this position is decided through strength. He who kills the current Baron becomes the Baron himself. This country was the first to feel the effects of the Spellplague as it spilled forth from Fafnir to the Southwest, thus its unusual nature. Some say there are many weak walls leading to other realms such as the Shadowfell in Duskhelm, so one must be wary and tread carefully.

To the South of Duskhelm is a stretch of land known as Serpent's Back, a mountainous and hilly region, nearly untouched by the spellplague despite its close proximity to the aberration known as Fafnir. This is because this is the holy land of the Dragonborn, protected by their patron deity Bahamut. Here is where many first generation Dragonborn are conceived, though it is a region not even they consider a country or homeland. This place is simply the staging area for those brave enough to take on the horrors of Fafnir.

Fafnir itself is a grand desert with many craggy outcroppings and countless underground tunnels. It is surrounded by the Sea of Tears, and both are home to terrible aberrations, many of which would scare off even the most devout of Nibelung's pious military. There is little to be said of the place because of this. It is known only that Fafnir is not native to Midgard and came many years ago in a great catastrophe.

Directly east of Nibelung and Duskhelm is the Silent March, a long stretch of land that is so called because of the tendency for Fafnir's creatures to flood its shores. However, if one braves the dangers across this land, they will find themselves in Afirca, an entirely unique nation that is wrapped around part of the Western Pillar. Afirca's people, entirely native Humans, do not need to eat to live. Instead, they seem to subsist by absorbing nutrients out of the air. They are deeply inbred, and this has caused a line of degenerative genetic diseases that keep most Afircans from reaching their older years. Despite their difficult lives in the tropical jungles, the average lifespan of an Afircan is 85 years.

Well, is your brain melted yet? It wouldn't surprise me. And before you ask, this is NOT the world that Wizards of the Coast devised for Dungeons & Dragons. Granted, they tell you often that a DM has free reign over their world, I am sure that they didn't quite intend for us to go this far. But it was ridiculously fun to create this complex world and all the history behind it. Bob and I spent perhaps three months mapping our plates and timelines. What do you think? Currently, our party is riling up a town in Nibelung near the western border of Duskhelm, not too far from the entrance to the Silent March.

I'll update more next week!

Sigh...

2010-01-21T13:55:00.001-08:00

It's finally happened.

I have been killed.

I haven't posted in almost two weeks because I have alternately been very busy at work, very busy knitting my weapon (yes, I am a Sockwars statistic now), and very busy caring for my new family member. Everyone, meet Kobold.

Remember at the end of my last post how I said Patrick and I were picking up a dog from the shelter on Friday? Well, here he is, in all his lazy glory.

That isn't to say that he is a lazy dog. In fact, quite the opposite. Kobold has a ton of energy. But while this German Shephard/Collie mix does love to run and play, he also knows how to enjoy some down time. That's my lap he's slowly taking over, by the way.

Kobold is ridiculously smart, and he's already learned the sit command. He's still working on laying down, and 'stay' is only just starting to sink in, but since we've barely had him a week, I think that's good progress. He's a trouble-maker, too. You know how toddlers like to pick things up and walk with them when they first learn how because, hey, how cool is that? Kobold does the same thing. He enjoys picking socks out of our laundry and carrying them out into the living room. He doesn't chew them, he just carries them around.
And he loves everyone. Everyone forever. Friendliest dog I've ever met.

Well, I am dead. My assassin, Tracy from MD, was very kind about it, too. She sent me a few things to help cushion the blow.

Since she stalked my blog (sorry I didn't update, Tracy!) and ravelry id, she knew I was a gamer and started off the package with some pretty awesome stuff.

On the left is an ice skate keychain from the paralympics, which is neat. And to the right, top to bottom, are Vivi and a chocobo from the Final Fantasy game series. The pin is from a completely awesome game called Fallout, and Patrick is pretty jealous of it.
And, in my emails with this wonderful knitter, I find out that she has actually met one of the concept artists for Fallout 3! Jealousy abounds! I'd better not let Patrick know, good thing he doesn't read my blog.

And after that was some lovely black tea, and the remnants from the socks. It's KnitPicks Essentials, in "Turtle Multi." How did Tracy know I like turtles? I don't know. Stroke of luck.
It is lovely yarn that swirls in shades of green varying from "spring" to "pine". I absolutely love all shades of the color green, even the electric lime variety, and this yarn has most of them. The socks are soft and comfy.

Ah, but I'm forgetting something, aren't I? The socks themselves! She used the "Don't Box Me In" pattern, and they're great. I can't take them off my feet.

How lovely are these things?! Oh man. There is nothing to make your feet happier at the end of the day then putting on a surprise pair of handknit socks.

So, Tracy, thank you. You have been an excellent opponent.

DnD Fun

2010-01-11T20:54:00.000-08:00

I have mentioned in a few posts my Monday night adventures with friends. However, this time I wanted to go a little more in depth on what comes with the adventures.
So let's start by introducing our cast.

First we have Bob, the DM.

That's him standing behind his DM screen (with lots of reference books scattered around it). He's thinking about some math here, adding up bonuses in his head to see if someone's attack hits the enemy we were fighting.
Bob likes to pit us against some interesting monsters, and sometimes we don't always come out of the fights in healthy shape.
Bob is a great DM because he likes to get really into everything. His narration is descriptive without being dry and boring, he's good at improvisation, and he lets us have fun with his world. We write the story. Sure, he has the most basic skeleton of a plot for us to follow, but there has to be one, doesn't there? We fill in all the meat.
Bob also plays Taelir Auf Audor (I don't think I spelled that right), his "in-case-we-fail-spectacularly" character that's only there to act as our plot guide and safety line. Taelir is our employer, and while he can be brutally honest with our short-comings, he tends to be a bit vague when we ask where exactly we're going.

To Bob's left is Dan.
Dan is someone I've known since high school, and we didn't really get along back then. He was in a pretty toxic relationship with someone I hated dearly, and it had a bad effect on him. He's been out of that for a few years now, and grown back into himself. Dan is very much a sort of brother for me.
Matthias, Dan's character, drinks anything, smokes anything (especially if it is a hallucinogen), and likes his women short. He's also one of our two tanks. Matthias is built to take a good hit, but he doesn't return the damage as well. He is a lusty, jump-without-looking kind of guy, and he has a tendency to make the rest of the party shake their heads in frustration or shame. We often tell people that we encounter to disregard him. Only twice has he not been around and we have said, "If only Matthias was here."

To Dan's left is Me. Those are my dice, since I don't have a picture of myself. Left-to-right, front-to-back are the tools of the trade: d10, d100, d8, d12, d20, d6 (regular playing dice), and a d4. I play a half elf name Morrigan, who was harassed and bullied and very confused as a child growing up in an orphanage. Eventually, to cope with her confusion, Morrigan developed two personalities, a human cleric, and an elf warlock. Neither are aware at all of the other's existence, which means the group can have fun at her expense. Mostly Mattias and Eris abuse this fact.
"Hey, elf, can you do this for me?"
"Matthias, I have told you countless times. I know my ears are a little pointy, but it is only a birth defect. I am as human as you, though not as saturated in alcohol."

To my left is Patrick. Usually during our sessions he is the backseat leader. On any given night, one of us will usually step up and take the job of leading our band, though only in a line-leader sort of way. Patrick rarely takes this post willingly, but he will gladly give out advice and help everyone make attack decisions based on what kind of damage he's tanking at the time. He is the other one of our two tanks, and the one that does the most damage. Sel'zanath, his dragonborn paladin is full of righteous fury when he starts a fight. He challenges everyone, marks them, and makes them take damage if they don't attack him. This is good news for me, since I wear cloth and seem to attract damage no matter what I do. However, I return the favor and keep him alive when he drops to dangerous levels in health.

Next around the table is Patrick's cousin Ben.
That's Caryn's hand that's attacking his face, by the way. Ben is very much as silly and friendly as Patrick, but much more violent and unforgiving when it comes to battles. Whereas Patrick must display mercy in some situations because otherwise Bahamut will smite him good, Ben is all for killing everyone.
Ben's character is a revenant, which is a spirit brought back from the dead and put into a body by the queen of the dead for some purpose or other. We don't know that, though. We think Calen's (pronounced KAY-len) a doppleganger warlord. Which he is. Dopplegangers can change their shape into any race available to players, which is useful if we need to escape from somewhere. "What's that? Oh, no, just escorting the prisoners to a meeting with the boss. Carry on." But usually we have to convince him not to kill everyone in sight. He is not all about 'discretion is the better part of valor' or any of that.

Last around the table is Caryn.
I don't know what to say about Caryn. She stirs up trouble subconsciously. Playing a rogue for her is fun, because she hides, gets behind people, and stabs them in the back. Then she hides again. And hardly anyone can hit her.
Eris has this... thing. She has to climb, and be up as high as possible. It's a subconscious command from a demon that's possessing her. And if she doesn't climb, the demon takes over and makes her do badass stuff. Normally you'd think a demon that makes you do badass stuff is a good thing, but not in this case. Mostly because the demon is not really "good". Eris herself is chaotic neutral, which means she is doing this solely for her own gain. God help you if you get in between her and what she wants.

The night starts around 7:30, when we all gather at Bob's apartment and catch up on what's happened with each other in the past week. Sometimes we bring food, sometimes not (though there's usually munchies). When the last person arrives around 8:00, we settle in around his kitchen table and get out our character sheets and dice, and get ready to get our asses kicked. This time, we're headed through a country that isn't happy with us at the time (They're not happy with anyone, really, but we beat up one of their generals) to the next point of our quest.
On our way, we run into a band of gypsies, except their camp is pretty quiet. Matthias, speaking to one, recalls the gypsies he met in his homeland The Burning Isles. Aren't gypsies normally more upbeat and cheerful?
They would be, replies our NPC, except that most of their troupe has been taken by Troglodytes. These, in D&D, refer to semi-draconic humanoids that aren't generally that bright, but they like to sacrifice smartier, meatier humans to their leaders. Either that or eat them. Well, we continued on our adventures with our two stealthiest people in front and behind (I was sandwiched in the middle, being the most vulnerable member of our party). We stumbled upon a bunch of Troglodytes in the middle of a post-battle feast. Gruesome, but we had work to do.
We got a surprise round, since the Troglodytes hadn't realized we were there. It went pretty fast. We moved a little bit and started to beat up on some Troglodytes.
I usually stay pretty far back from the front-line action, since I'm a "squishy." This is pretty much a good strategy for me, and it was effective against just about everyone but the dragon. Dragons have burst 10 auras that destroy everything forever. But that's in the past.
It wasn't working this time, since there was a chanter and it seemed to set its eyes on me. I was weakened, which means my damage-dealt is only half the total. I managed to get over that, but then I just got hit again. Matthias was surrounded by a Troglodyte and his "dogs," two horned drakes. He'd already taken one out, and was busy pushing the others around. Sel'zanath had marked half the Troglodytes by the end of the second round, and was beating the crap out of them while they tried really hard to beat the crap out of him. Eris was stabbing people left and right and dealing ongoing damage all over the place, while managing to avoid the hits they were trying to land on her. Calen was throwing alchemical things all over the place and having fun doing damage at a distance.

We had to stop in the middle of the fight, since it was getting late and most of us had work in the morning. We'll finish it next week, and continue on our way. Before we reach our next destination, we'll be passing through Bastion, Morrigan's home country. Taelir has promised her she can stop and visit the Reverend Mother from her orphanage, so she is extremely excited.

Oh, by the way... Friday, we're picking up a dog from the shelter! I'm so excited.

Down to the Salad

2010-01-10T06:21:00.000-08:00

...and some garlic bread and mozzarella sticks, too.

Last night at work was CRAZY. It was utter insanity washed down with a shot of futility, with a hopeless chaser. We just couldn't make pizzas fast enough. We couldn't make dough fast enough to compensate for the business.
Here's a quick explanation of the situation's beginning:
Pizza Hut has a special going right now where you can get any size pizza, any number of toppings, for $10. The commercial is lying about any crusts, the stuffed pizzas are a dollar extra. This, as you can imagine, is a really popular pizza. In some cases, it has knocked as much as eight to ten dollars off the regular price of some orders.
It is ridiculous, and all the employees hate it.
Well, on a normal Friday night we start making more dough when we're down to 30 of whatever it is we're selling a lot of. It takes about 45 minutes to an hour for new dough to be ready to cook with, and that gives us a few extra minutes in between the last pizza sold and the new ones ready to use. Last night, we started making dough with 50 larges left.
We were out of those in half an hour.
And bread sticks.
And then we ran out of stuffed crusts and large hand-tossed.
And then medium hand-tossed.
Followed by medium pans.
And then large thin crusts.
All we had left to sell by 7:00 PM was medium thin crust pizzas. It would be an hour before anything else was ready. People were still placing orders, knowing full well it would be up to an hour and a half for them to get their pizza. In the dining room, things were going badly since we had to start telling people at the door that we were out of just about everything. Our dine-in crowd was pretty small that night, too, partly because of the game, and partly just because. And then we stopped having food to sell to them, and it got smaller.
It got to the point where Matt the Manager took our phones off the hooks and told us not to answer them if they rang. We took 145 orders in an hour and a half. Three people cooking, four waitresses, and one person cutting the food from two ovens, and we were just overflowing with business. We'd made three grand by 7:30. That's a lot.

I left around 8:45 after staying for a while to make sure that everyone had everything they needed for the rest of the night (I was only supposed to work 12-8). I folded boxes, helped with dishes, cut pizzas for a while, and manned the phones when no one else wanted to be the one that said, "Sorry, all we have left are thin crust medium pizzas. It's going to be about another half an hour before anything else is ready. Yes, that includes personal pan pizzas. No, we're out of stuffed crusts. All we have left right now are medium thin crust pizzas. I'm sorry about that."

Patrick picked me up, whisked me off home, and cooked me dinner. We watched some stand-up comedy until I started to fall asleep, and then we went to bed and I passed out.

I am SO glad I have off today.

2010-01-01T19:58:00.000-08:00

Come, my children, and I shall tell
A horrible tale of restaurant hell.

The week after Christmas,
They came to this board.
The raging, ravening
Hungering hoard.
The waitress she smiled,
Though it seemed rather strained,
And did her level best
To keep the hoard contained.
They pushed and they pulled
And they wore her down,
But that cheerful young woman
Just wouldn't frown.
She was thinking of money,
great loads of cash;
And even the smaller tips
Were added to the stash.

Hello Blogland! As you can probably guess, I've been pretty busy these last two weeks. The week before Christmas is always busy in any kind of business, and Pizza Hut was no exception. In the past week and a half alone I have made almost $600 in tips. The week after Christmas was even busier than the week before, and I was regularly making over $80 a day in tips. Granted, I was working hard to make that money.
Very Hard.
By myself.
Well, not entirely by myself, but I was the only waitress. There was a very kind woman on Wednesday who told me that she thought Matt and I (the only two up front) were doing an excellent job keeping business at bay. She said that for the amount of people coming in and out of our store, we were doing amazing work.
The bonus to that customer density is that I get a lot of "pity tips" from people who see me working the entire dining room plus half of the front counter by myself. They feel bad that I'm alone and (usually) think I'm doing a bang-up job of handling everything so I get a bit of an extra tip. And while I don't care much for the pity part, I'll take any extra money that my customers are willing to dish out to me.
The flip side is that by the end of a six-hour shift I am so thoroughly exhausted I've let just about everything go for almost two weeks. The dishes have only been washed piecemeal, the laundry is piling up (I'm doing it tomorrow), and the apartment in general is messy. I gave my shift away tomorrow night so I'll spend tomorrow afternoon catching up on the cleaning.
And then Patrick and I have off on Sunday, so we're going to go on a date. I got a $25 gift card to AMC theatres from my parents, so we're going to catch a movie and get lunch/dinner. The rest of the day will probably be spent relaxing. I'm also off on Monday, so I plan on being completely lazy until D&D at 7.

Knitting has been done very little. I have cast on for my Adamas shawl again, and promptly fell in love with the yarn/pattern combination. It's Moda Dea Eclipse yarn in a lovely dark gold color. I immediately discovered that the Eclipse line has been discontinued and that I am about three balls short of having enough to finish my shawl. I'm prowling around on Ravelry to see if anyone else has it and is willing to destash or make a trade. Thus far I have been unsuccessful, but hope remains. Sock Wars starts soon, so I'm going to be absorbed in that, and the post-holiday drop in business will mean I'll be much less exhausted and more ready to knit.

Kelly is spending the night tonight, and I taught her how to make bread pudding. We watched Star Trek (I jut got it today) and now she and Patrick are playing Super Smash Brothers Brawl. It's a ridiculous fighting game comprised entirely of Nintento characters. People like R.O.B., Lucas, Mario, Peach, Sonic, and Link beat the ever loving crap out of each other in silly, unique ways.

I'm going to go enjoy spending some time with them and probably get my butt kicked by them in SSBB. Hooray!

Here's hoping your new year goes better than all the others.