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2:47 AM 5/26/2010
Being part of the intended audience is important to a reader.

3:50 AM 5/26/2010
All the photos I'd seen of Nine looked fantastically ugly. I'm pleased to note that while stills do no justice to his face, he looks much better in motion, very much himself. Now interested to compare the actor to the character, see how different they are. (For example, Gillian Anderson, in the few bits I've seen of her being herself, came off as a perfect ninnyhammer and also possibly high as a kite; I adore Scully like nobody's business.)

4:46 AM 5/26/2010
Things that I have said today that make me happy:
And do not get me started on the dear, sweet, lovely, and em>entirely wrong-headed</em> people who insist that site:org will only get you non-profits. IT WILL NOT. I AM AN EX-DOMAIN-ATRIX. SELLING DOMAINS WAS MY JOB. IF ANYONE TRIES TO TELL YOU THAT .ORG IS NON-PROFIT ONLY, SEND THEM TO ME AND I WILL RE-EDUCATE THEM, WITH THE HELP OF ICANN AND A STICK.

(Context.)

12:49 PM 5/26/2010
Dreamed about the early days of the zombie insurrection, and had to remind my character to stay in character, when we didn't know that animals could get it too. Trying to secure a basically indefensible house in the outskirts of Fairbanks, with not as many zombies as you might think, no tests but checking friends and neighbors for the signs of amplification. Dogs in the house. That was the hard part, not reacting when I should have been treating the great big black labs with the utmost suspicion. Somebody's mother was having a romance with a MythBuster (Jamie or Adam, not sure who). (I think it was Seanan's mother.)

1:31 AM 5/27/2010
Went for walkies with aunt, poodle, and lab this afternoon; went to Trader Joe's after that; followed this up with dinner and continued computer funtimes at the house of JD and Ryan.

Lab is still creaky. Saw fog rolling in as we drove out: it was coming off the ocean something fierce, though it was still sunny at my aunt's house. It was visible with clouds boiling off the ocean:
Clouds on Twitpic

It rolled in fast and heavy: Attack Mist!!!
Attack mist on Twitpic

There was an Incident with a bigger dog who looked like he wanted to get humpy with Deacon, and the geezer who was with the dog looked cranky and yelly, but he turned out to be yelling at the humpy dog. He sounded half-deaf with all the yelly.

Deacon's digestive system was suffering a bit from excess peas.

On the way back (we turned around just as we were about to encounter the humpy dog again) a long, low dog of some description put his paws up on my aunt and snagged one of the poo bags out of her beltpack. Turned out that this was not just any poo bag, but the one that was holding the dog treats. She told me afterwards that her train of thought went like "shit, well, at least he didn't get the treats" (bad practice to feed someone else's dog: bad training, and goodness only knows what sort of digestive issues that dog might have), to "shouldn't touch him, he might bite" to "shit, he's going to choke on that" in a matter of moments; in a flash, she'd scattered some of her treats on the ground in hopes of getting him to drop it (no) and then as more of the bag disappeared in the direction of his gullet, she pried his mouth open to retrieve the mangled bag.

The dog's people came up as he was attempting to gobble the scattered dog food and cubes of turkey burger from the ground; they pulled him away (and added leash); the poodle vacuumed the rest. Good ol' Deacon had been merrily away trotting amongst the hummocks for all this noise.

Trader Joe's was anticlimactic and very chill.

I shortly found myself headed over to the boys' for dinner (I brought the rest of the bread) and computerfuntimes. JD schooled me in defrosting chicken in their microwave; I had to defrost it more due to it being hot around the edges but frozen where I was trying to separate chicken from bone. I'm getting reasonably good at it, enough so that I may go ahead and get the bone-in chicken breasts myself the next time I buy them. Then I washed dishes while JD cooked. We tasted dinner and something was missing (despite the extra chili powder); I tasted it and declared it to be *cringe* green bell pepper. Having none of that, nor parsley, JD added extra assorted ground pepper, which made things better. (BROTHERS. I HAVE BROTHERS. WHAT AN AMAZING WORLD OF ENTERTAINMENT IS FOUND IN THE WORLD OF HAVING BROTHERS.)

Ryan got home from laundryfuntimes, we had dinner, we added cheese, we shared generalized hilarity, including a reading from a review of "The Haunted Vagina".

It's difficult to love a woman whose vagina is a gateway to the world of the dead...

Steve is madly in love with his eccentric girlfriend, Stacy. Unfortunately, their sex life has been suffering as of late, because Steve is worried about the odd noises that have been coming from Stacy's pubic region. She says that her vagina is haunted. She doesn't think it's that big of a deal. Steve, on the other hand, completely disagrees.

When a living corpse climbs out of her during an awkward night of sex, Stacy learns that her vagina is actually a doorway to another world. She persuades Steve to climb inside of her to explore this strange new place. But once inside, Steve finds it difficult to return... especially once he meets an oddly attractive woman named Fig, who lives within the lonely haunted world between Stacy's legs.


"A very strange and surprisingly touching love story, despite the deliberately asinine premise. With subtle humor, surreal erotica, and some genuinely creepy moments, The Haunted Vagina is a completely unique reading experience."


This time, amazingly, the DVD drive opened (what the hell, man), and I found this out just as Ryan discovered that my flash drive bracelet was too small for what he was planning. (Insert assorted nervous-cleaning-behaviors from me, picking up CDs and office supplies and cords and whatnot, and shelving them neatly.) He burned the diagnostics to a CD, and we fired 'er up (after, of course, I changed the boot order to respect the re-found DVD drive, which I did fast enough and discreetly enough that Ryan missed it the first time around). We got to the Seagate testing utility ...

... and it was loading ...

... and there was failure to read from the drive.

Reboot.

Drive located ...

... and failure to read from the drive.

Reboot.

Located ... failure.

FUCKITY-FUCKING-FUCK ON A FUCKING FUCK-STICK.

At this point, what with the HD showing intermittent problems like yea, the DVD drive occasionally just not working, the audio going to hell in a handbasket -- Ryan thinks it might be the motherboard. Aiiiy.

Next step, we'll crack his [Madman's] case and put his HD in Ryan's machine and see how that goes, for the testing. By this time, of course, it was late. My cleaning efforts did locate the charger for Ryan's good camera, so that was at least a triumph.


One of the things driving this recent flurry of computer activity is all those work-from-home tech jobs requiring a machine that can actually cut it. I'm even qualified for some of those jobs.

Tomorrow: Farmers' market, TV night, and probably errands. Also re-reading The Demon's Lexicon so I can approach The Demon's Covenant with all appropriate preparation.

Crossposted. comment count unavailable comments.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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