meander's MindSay Blog

So you wanna be a pirate...

trilliann — 2005-05-27T01:05:43-05:00

So, you’ve heard about some crazy “Creative Historical Reenactment” festival going on. Rennaisance Festival, Pirate Days, Medieval Faire, whatever. And even while you’re laughing at the freaks who get involved in those things, secretly, deep down, you’re thinking “Actually, that could be kinda fun…”

Trust me, they are. Fun. Lots. They are the best place I’ve found to experience my favorite sport, “Freak Watching.” Many of the people in attendance take this “creative anachronism” stuff very, very seriously. They spend thousand of dollars on costumes, talk with funny accents, practically learn to speak a different language, and refuse to break character for weeks at a time.

However, a far higher percentage of the people in attendance are just there for the fun, the shopping, the food, and the beer. All of which are very good.

It’s all a lot more fun if you’re (at least sort of) in costume, though. It’s easier to engage the actors in a conversation, you’ll actually feel less conspicuous, and some merchants will even give you a discount.

So, how to make a passable costume with no sewing ability and minimal outlay of cash. We aren’t aiming for historically correct here, just fun.

1) Don’t attempt to be royalty. Sure, their clothes are the prettiest. They also cost enough for a good downpayment on a new home. The majority of people were peasants, go with it.

2) Thrift stores are your friend. If you’re willing to dig thru the stuff at Goodwill you can get by for less than $10.

3) Look for natural fabrics. They’ll look more realistic, and they breathe.

Guys- Basic Pirate costume.

Buy a pair of black pants (the plainer the better) a couple sizes too big. If you can find some of those hammer pants so popular a couple decades ago in a solid color, perfect. Tie on a belt to keep ‘em up, and tuck the hems in a pair of black boots. You may have better luck shoping in the womens shoes for black boots, remember that womens sizes run two bigger than mens. So, if you wear a mans size 9, you’ll need womens size 11. Since you’re already in the women’s section, look for a big frilly white shirt, ala Seinfeld’s poofy shirt. If you aren’t willing to take it that far, a plain white button down (again, at least a size bigger than normal) will work. Best to snip off the buttons, cut more button holes where the buttons were (use fraycheck to keep the holes from becoming huge), buy some string and lace the shirt closed.

Not looking so much like a pirate? Now for the finishing touches. Get a piece of fabric (red is good) long enough to pass around your waist at least twice. At the fabric store, also pick up some long fringe and some “No Sew” liquid. Use the No Sew to glue the fringe to the edges of the length of fabric, let it dry AT LEAST OVERNIGHT. Take this long scarf thingie, hold it across the front of you waist, loop it around your waist, crossover in the back, tie in a knot to the front side. If you have a dagger or sword, tuck in in here.

Looks best if you add a nice black hat, but those can be pretty steep unless you catch a good after Halloween sale. Instead, take a piece of black fabric about 18” square, fold it in half so it forms a triangle, and tie on your ‘do rag. Add an eye patch or a parrot to really get festive.

Should look something like this guy, but without the vest. Personally I wouldn’t have gone for pink, but I also wouldn’t argue with anyone who carries a dagger that size in his mouth. Although he does appear to have cut his tongue…

http://www.artdolls.com/images/gallery/fullSize/WendyRinehart-Pirate.jpg

Simpler version- especially if you can’t find boots- find any natural fabric solid or vertical striped pants. (If the colors are too bright, you can tone ‘em down by boiling in a big pot of tea. Don’t drink the tea.) Cut them off somewhere between your knees and ankles. Pull the thread so the fabric frays a bit. If your legs haven’t seen the light of day in a while, then please, for the sake of the children, use some self tanning cream. Top them of with either a shirt as described above. Use a long scarf thingie around your waist for a pirate look, old beat up leather belt (not with a modern buckle!) or a length of rope for a peasant.

Great shoes for men or women are commonly called kung-fu shoes or Chinese shoes, simple cloth flats.

You can find them online for about $5 a pair. Or, some sandals are passable. Barefoot would be better, but probably not allowed.

Ladies-You can actually come up with a pretty cool gypsy chick outfit at Old Navy in about ten minutes. Buy a long, full, tiered skirt (again, no prints, please.) Top it with a beaded and/or embroidered tunic, tie a scarf around your waist and you’re set.

You can also hit Wal-mart for a big straw hat, buy a vine of flowers in the craft department, wrap the vine around the hat and voila! Renaissance maiden hat. Helps prevent sunstroke.

Or hit the thrift stores, look for a solid colored “poet’s blouse.” These things come in and out of fashion frequently, so you can usually fine one. Add a couple of long, full, solid color skirts. Vertical stripes or embroidery/beading are ok, but no prints. If you can find a couple of those drawstring crinkle skirts, perfect. Tuck the top one up in your waistband on one side, so the underlayer shows a bit.

Hint: Apparently, the more cleavage you show, the less anybody’s gonna notice what else you’re wearing.

Problem. You really need to add a bodice of some sort. Making one without sewing is difficult. One option is to buy a solid color vest that fits very tightly. Get rid of the buttons, preferably use grommets (available at most sewing supply stores, no sewing required but you do need a hammer) and lace it up the front. Might work sorta ok. Better options- buy a readymade bodice, or better yet, learn to sew.

If the clothes are town or dirty- cool! More authentic!

You can also wear a variation of the guy’s costume above, and go as Grace O’Malley or one of the other pirate chicks.

Most important- Have fun! You’ll see a wide variety of dress at faire, I’ve seen everything from 6 foot tall trolls to people so covered in mud that you couldn’t tell what they were wearing, to a whole troop of Stormtroopers.

Yes, Stormtroopers.

See the second paragraph at the top.

Good day!

Naked Cowboy

trilliann — 2005-06-09T10:06:21-05:00

Moving on.

So, after we left GMA, we went wandering around the Times Square area for a while. I was reminded of a Hitchhiker's Guide quote...

"Incredible!" breathed Arthur "The people ...! The things...!"

"The things" said Ford Prefect quietly "are also people."

Wandering around, gaping at the hugemongous flashing flatscreen lcd billboards and other impressive advances in advertising media. Stopped at a corner waiting to cross the street, saw a taxi careening my way, and took a step back out of harms way. Bumped into someone, turned around to apologize...

And he's naked.

Ok, not completely. He was wearing cowboy boots, a Stetson and a pair of tighty whities with "Naked Cowboy" written across the butt.

Now, I'd heard of the Naked Cowboy, but I certainly didn't expect to, well, bump into him. Apparently, I can turn even more shades of red than I'd thought previously possible.

What makes a person (granted, a very fit person) wake up one morning and think "Gee, I don't feel like wearing clothes today. Let's go see if I can get some tips."?

Well, for one thing, from this interview it would seem that he's stark, raving mad. Nicely built lunatic, though.

http://www.littleviews.com/home/newyork/naked_cowboy.cfm

Seems to be working for him, though. Word is that during high tourist season he pulls in about $1000 a day.

Dare to go to the dark side...

Who knew heaven was in New York?

fiction

trilliann — 2005-08-06T05:08:08-05:00

I read recipes the same way I read science fiction.

I get to the end and I think "Well, that's not going to happen."

clarification

trilliann — 2005-09-07T09:09:28-05:00

Got a bit of clarification on the Red Cross story.

First, apparently the Red Cross has the authority to tell them they can't distribute items there because it was a Red Cross sponsored center- therefore, for their own legal protection they can't let just anyone come in and start handing out stuff.

Second, they do usually give out their items completely free. I don't know whether this is a policy once the initial rescue operations are under control, or if a local official misunderstood what they were supposed to be doing. I do know that the Red Cross International has an excellent and long history of being by far one of the best charitable foundations.

(Of course, according to www.charitynavigator.com , their President/CEO has an annual compensation package valued at $450,000. I'm thinking that close to a half million dollars a year could help an awful lot of people. But that's another issue entirely.)

Anyway, because I do believe that Red Cross International is one of the best-they are often the first responders, with widespread operations, combined with the an internationally known name- I'm removing my entry from this morning.

Yes, I believe they are bogged down in beaurocracy and probably do a lot of things that don't make sense.

But I don't want to imagine a world without them.

toys

trilliann — 2005-09-08T02:09:19-05:00

A friend just brought a bag full of "Happy Meal" toys, still in unopened packages, to add to the donations for knapsacksofhope

I'm thinking these will be great additions to the bags for the kids. Heck, I might even start eating kids' meals myself for the next couple weeks, just to get the toys.

Erm, just to get the toys for knapsacks, that is.

help 'til it hurts

trilliann — 2005-09-08T05:09:22-05:00

Ok, people. Now is your chance.

Show me that you are the kind, generous spirits that I know you to be.

As you probably know, there's a group of us, started by snuggs , who are sponsoring a project we're calling Knapsacks of Hope, for survivors of Hurricane Katrina.

Visit us at knapsacksofhope and www.knapsacksofhope.homestead.com

We aren't asking for much- very simple items, really, that you have in the back of your closet. Things like tote bags, lotions, stuffed animals, coffee mugs, notebooks, hand mirrors, games. Send an email to knapsacksofhope@yahoo.com for a shipping address to send items.

If you absolutely can't send stuff- if you're too broke, too far away, too involved in other charitable endeavors- then at least help with our letter writing campaign.

If you can't mail a handwritten card or letter of encouragement to go in one of the knapsacks, then write one, scan it, and email it to us. We'll print it for you.

Better yet, send us a picture of you, your friends, and your family, holding signs with messages of hope (and something to indicate where you're from.)

Once the needs of food, water, and shelter have been met, the greatest human need is hope.

fund raising- they don't call it FUN raising.

trilliann — 2005-09-10T06:09:19-05:00

I listed a number of items, including several sets of my great-grandmothers' jewelry, on eBay to raise funds and awareness for knapsacksofhope .

eBay sent me a very stern letter and removed some of my listings that I had posted to raise money for www.knapsacksofhope.com (And threatened me with account suspension.It took me a long time to build up that feedback rating, they better not try to take away my account!)

Apparently, in order to claim to be raising funds for a charitable endeavor, you have to go thru a specific registration process, which seems to involve more mountains of paperwork. I've changed my remaining listing to instead include this message

"Dear Bidders- I had originally stated that all of my current listings benefit Knapsacks of Hope, aiding victims of Hurricane Katrina. Unfortunately, I did not realize that this was in violation of eBay's very specific regulations regarding fundraising for charitable endeavors. I do understand why such caution is necessary, it simply had not occurred to me that such regulations existed. I have edited the desriptions to remove these references. Knapsacks of Hope is looking into the necessary process to become a registered eBay charity. Until that time, please visit www.KnapsacksofHope.com for information on how you can help. Thank You, and Happy Bidding!"

Hopefully, that'll make 'em happy. I've altered the remaining eBay listings and am busy re-listing the ones they removed.

Attention Douglas Adams fans

trilliann — 2005-09-11T12:09:39-05:00

Ok, listing my grandmother's jewelry was one thing.

But I just listed on ebay my SIGNED, first edition, mint condition hardback copy of Douglas Adams' "Last Chance to See", one of the greatest books ever written, by my favorite author.

(No offense, Keith.)

Signed by the late, great Adams himself.

If this doesn't raise some serious cash for knapsacksofhope , I will be completely heartbroken.

Hope

trilliann — 2005-09-15T08:09:08-05:00

Meet Hope, the Bear

Hope is in my office, guarding all of the lovely donations my co-workers have been bringing in for knapsacksofhope

(I originally was calling her Poppa Bear, but a friend pointed out that with those hips, definitely female.)

Hope was a donation from a kind soul who gave me a garbage sack full of lovely new stuffed animals for www.knapsacksofhope.com

Now, any ideas on how in the heck we're supposed to give a couple hundred kids little, normal size stuffed animals, and choose one child to adopt Hope?!?!

Hope would like to ask that you please remember those in need. As you sit in you comfortable home, be it ever so humble, remember those who have lost their homes, all of their worldly possessions.

Please give generously.

They need Hope, too.

Arrrr!

trilliann — 2005-09-19T09:09:31-05:00

Avast there, mateys! This be International Talk Like a Pirate Day! So grab a grog and drink up, me hearties. Sing a shanty, dance a hornpipe ‘cross the poop deck, and be ye not forgettin’ t’ toss some pieces of eight towards www.knapsacksofhope.com and help them unfortunates as what lost all.

Smartly now, lads. Dinna make me come an’ keelhaul ye, shark bait.

Landlubbers translation:

Good day, sir or madam! Today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Let us celebrate by imbibing your alcoholic beverage of choice, which may lighten your heart and result in singing and dancing. Please give generously to the worthy knapsacksofhope , benefiting survivors of Hurricane Katrina.

Or else you may be forced to regret it.

Thank you kindly!

Yowch

trilliann — 2005-09-19T03:09:43-05:00

Talk about an electrifying personality...!

"An Australian man built up a 40,000-volt charge of static electricity in his clothes as he walked, leaving a trail of scorched carpet and molten plastic and forcing firefighters to evacuate a building..."

Rita

trilliann — 2005-09-21T10:09:30-05:00

Hurricane Categories

Category 1- Winds of 74-95 mph

Category 2- Winds of 96-110 mph

Category 3- 111-130 mph

Category 4- 131-155

Category 5- 155 plus

5 is as high as the rankings go. With a average range of about 20 mph per category, theoretically if there was such a thing as a category 6, it would be about 20 mph over 155.

CNN just reported winds from Hurricane Rita at 175mph.

life

trilliann — 2005-09-29T04:09:41-05:00

My friends online and off have been telling me that I’ve been quiet lately, which is apparently unusual enough to be a subject of conversation in it’s own right. (Or maybe it’s proof that someone’s prayers are being answered…)

Anywho, for whatever reason, I haven’t felt much like talking lately, and whenever I try to write it feels forced and bland. But that doesn’t imply that I’ve been down, quite the opposite. Here’s some of what’s been keeping me busy.

While I haven’t been talking or writing, I have been painting again… first time in years that my hand tremor has been controlled enough. The results are less than impressive, and I’ve got paint under all my fingernails that won’t go away, but who cares?

KnapsacksOfHope And so help me, if you didn’t know that already then it’s high time you dug your head out of the sand- here’s some q-tips to clean out your ears. Been hitting up everyone I know or have business dealings with for donations, as well as setting up a booth at a Hurricane Relief concert. Speaking of which, if you haven’t already, please go to www.knapsacksofhope.com and click on the donate link to paypal a few dollars to this worthy cause- the project ends this weekend.

Annual charity golf tournament at work, this year we raised about $15k for a local Children’s Home, for abused and neglected kids. I’m always very proud to be a part of it. Busy and long day, but I managed to not quite get bonked by any wild balls, so I lived to tell the tale. Of course, now any time I hear “Fore!” I have an instinctive urge to duck and cover.

Planning a weekend trip with some friends to Disney World for sometime this winter. I haven’t been in, um, about 15 years. So we’re going while I still have a handicapped-parking pass. Seems as good a reason as any.

Still slogging my way thru my Hindi classes, although I obviously have no aptitude for the language. Of course, if I ever did my homework, I might not be so far behind the rest of the class…

Working two unrelated jobs, but in the same office. Only temporary, until they find someone else. In the meantime, if this schedule does not in fact kill me, it will help me pay for the medical treatments that my good for nothing insurance won’t cover.

Speaking of which, my health. Since my insurance won’t cover the IV treatment, and I can’t raise the funds, we’ve been trying the next best alternative, which is administering the same meds by intramuscular injections. (read as “honkin’ big needles jammed in my hip, full of meds that burn like acid.” ) Ins. won’t cover that, either, but it’s $300 a month instead of $6000, so it’s much more feasible. Combined with the cocktail of other meds, it seems to really be working (IhopeIhopeIhopeIhope) After every treatment, I have 3-4 days of feeling like absolute crap, followed by about a week of feeling remarkably close to normal (ok, maybe normal doesn’t apply here. Feeling like a non-chronically ill person.)

Think of a time when you had a really bad flu- aches, fever, exhaustion, dizzy, weak, nausea, the works. And then one, day, you wake up and you don’t feel so bad. You manage to get up… still ok. Still not fully up to speed, but you begin to appreciate the things we normally take for granted… like being able to stay awake for more than a few hours. Not hurting everywhere every second. Food smells good again.

The sky has never been such a beautiful sight.

Now, imagine that flu had lasted for almost 3 years, and you’ll have some idea of how I feel right now.

Cautiously optimistic… my body could still reject the treatment, the Lyme could mutate again before we kill ‘em all, it might not last… but oh, God, life is so beautiful.

hmmmm....

trilliann — 2005-09-29T05:09:53-05:00

After I finished writing the entry below, I remembered shiny 's meme for the creatively challenged, and decided to see if I could meet the requirements.

Step One: Go to the "Live!" page and copy top "tags" numbers 17 through 24. Post them in your blog.

Step Two: Blog -- on topic -- using five of the eight "tags" listed above.

Step Three: In the "Tags" field, only include the tags you've used.

I discovered that what I had already written covered all eight of 17-24:

17 homework

18 hurricane

19 art

20 fun

21 disney

22 friends

23 blog

24 family

Is that confirmation that I am particularly creatively challenged presently, a weird coincidence, or does it just mean that I'm thinking like ?

For Cat

trilliann — 2005-10-02T10:10:13-05:00

Something

Knapsacks of Hope Report, Episode 1- The Journey begins

trilliann — 2005-10-03T11:10:48-05:00

So the grand finale of the KnapsacksOfHope project was this past weekend. 4 weeks of creative fundraising, annoying everyone I know for donations, sorting thru boxes of a sometimes bizarre variety of stuff… and it all culminated in one busy, exhausting, exciting, heartwarming weekend.

Let’s start with the boring part.

Thursday night I started loading in my car all the stuff that was donated too late to ship to Alabama.

Realized that there was no way on God’s green earth that much stuff was going to fit in my Civic, no matter how I compacted and arranged it. Called my Mom, who graciously let me borrow her larger car for the weekend.

(Imagine my surprise last night when I got to their house to trade back, and found out she had cleaned my baby car from bumper to bumper while I was gone. Every nook and cranny and then some. Hunny has never been some sparkly!)

Still took a while, but with some creative packing and a roof carrier, finally managed to get all the doors shut.

Friday morning, I managed to also get myself in the car, and go to work. I told them I was leaving at noon, expected to actually leave at 3, but finally got out the door at 4. Which meant Friday afternoon traffic in the city of the eternal roadwork.

As I’m creeping along at about 2 mph, worrying about whether the roof cargo carrier thingy is really secure, and how late it’s going to be when I get there, and if I’m going to be able to get off the highway and get some fuel, the bugs in my brain started a whisper campaign.

“You know, there are reasons why you said you’d never meet anyone you met online… There’s no way these not-right ladies are as great as they seem. I bet they aren’t even ladies. In fact, I bet there’s not even more than one person. I’m telling you, you’re going to get there and it’ll turn out to be one greasy old pervert with multiple personalities, who staged the whole thing.”

Me “But, my family knows exactly where I’m going. They have the address and my cell number and all.”

Bugs “Yeah, that’ll sure help ‘em know where to find the body.”

Me “But, we had the whole deal with free shipping from UPS, so there must really be a relief effort thing going on, with multiple people.”

Bugs “Nah. Greasy pervert probably works for UPS.”

Me “There was that article in the paper.”

Bugs “He hacked into their website. Did you ever see a real copy of the newspaper?”

Me “Well, no, but… “

Bugs “That’s what I thought.”

So I breathed into a paper bag for a bit, reasoned with myself that no one would go thru that elaborate of a hoax just to meet ME, turned on some loud music to drown out the bugs, and traveled on.

Finally got there and, lo and behold, three actual flesh and blood ladies. Who turned out to be even more fun, witty, generous and altogether wonderful than they seemed online.

As wonderful of an experience as it has been to meet these “imaginary friends” in real life, I don’t know that I’m gonna make a habit of stepping outside my comfort zone like that. I like my box, it’s warm and soft and safe and, well, comfortable.

Tomorrow I’ll write about Saturday, henceforth known as The Day of the Never-ending Tote Bags.

Knapsacks of Hope Report, Episode 2- Neverending Knapsacks

trilliann — 2005-10-04T04:10:12-05:00

Saturday morning started with another fantabulous meal by Hester, and meeting some of Snuggs “real life” friends, who were quite intrigued to actually meet us, her “imaginary friends.”

Our truck driver had a bit of an emergency come up, so we head off with a caravan of cars, trucks and one SUV to the Gym where we’ll be packing.

Since I don’t know how to get there, I ended up following a particularly lead footed lady. Struggling to keep up with her, since my car is very loaded down, and I have the roof carrier, which was making me a bit nervous because I’d never driven with that before, and I’m having visions of it coming loose and strewing dead stuffed animals all across the highway…

I look in my rear view mirror, and I can see that the carrier has slipped back just a bit- it’s now visible thru the back window. But I can’t get my leaders attention to pull over so I can fix it, so we speed on. I’m reasonably certain that it’s strapped on there well enough that the car would have to roll a few times before it would really come loose, but still…

Then I see the flashing lights come up behind me.

Cute Cop walks up to my car. “Um, hi officer, can I help you?”

“Well, ma’am, I just wanted to check on that thingy you got strapped to your roof there. Didn’t look to secure, and I’m too lazy to go picking up stuff all across the highway.”

(His words, not mine, I swear.)

“Oh! I know I installed it according to the manufacturers directions…*big smile*”

“Well, ok then. Just be careful out there.”

Whew. Ok, onward we go.

Unload the first load, leave a couple of our peoples to start unpacking and setting up, and the caravan heads to the UPS store.

Boy, were they glad to see us pick up all those boxes! If the Fire Marshall had happened in the store, they might have been fined- our boxes took up a huge portion of their floorspace.

Then, since there was still room in the cars to, like, breathe, they obviously weren’t full enough, so we went to the house of our Patron Saint of Storage, and loaded up some more.

The fact that we got all those boxes in those vehicles is obvious proof that miracles do, in fact, happen.

Then we got to unload all the stuff, and start unpacking.

Such an overwhelming, heartwarming amount of stuff! Thousands of mugs, coloring books, crayons, pens, pencils, toiletries, towels, stuffed animals, journals, school supplies, picture frames, stationary, cards and games, tea, cocoa, stamps & envelopes, a handful of calling cards and disposable cameras, and Lord knows what else.

I am still so completely overwhelmed by the generosity you all showed. Most especially, I am amazed at Superwoman Snuggs, who pulled all of this together while working and going to school.

(The “S” is for Snuggs”)

So we packed and packed and packed the totebags… I curled up in the corner with Hope the Bear and took a lil’ nap a couple times... and packed some more…

We were able to put at least two handwritten cards or letters in each totebag. The cards were so heartwarming. The faith and love from the children, the encouragement from the adults. Incredibly beautiful.

We would have never managed without the help of Snuggs’ local friends and family, who worked tirelessly to get ‘r done.

Somehow, the Not Right Ladies and Associates managed to make all that hard work fun.

Finally, sometime late Saturday evening, we had all of our stuff packed in totebags, loaded on the moving truck, and ready to go. That’s when I noticed that we had a huge, smooth, polished concrete floor, with one chair on wheels… Whoohoo! Couple spins across the floor (then a couple more) and I was ready to go. Better than Six Flags!

But Sunday… Sunday was really special. More on that tomorrow.

no subject

trilliann — 2005-10-05T09:10:30-05:00

Sorry, turns out I'm in meetings all day (actually, until 9pm tonight) so no time for report on Sunday at the knapsacksofhope project.

Will try again tomorrow.

Knapsacks of Hope Report, Episode 3- The End of the Beginning

trilliann — 2005-10-06T02:10:32-05:00

Sunday morning came entirely too soon after Saturday night.

The alarm went off, and the arguments began.

Feet “There is no way in heck you’re getting us to touch that floor again. You know better than to expect us to haul your big lard butt around for that kind of long hours and manual labor and expect us to be willing to go at it again.”

BLB “Hey! If you’d get out and do something more often, I wouldn’t be carrying so much extra weight, ya know.”

Shoulders-“what are you complaining about?! We had to carry, like, 50 tons of stuff.”

Head- “Well, as soon as the room stops spinning, I might think about getting up.”

Back “Don’t even try, buddy. ‘Cause I’m going on strike.”

Hands- “I’d be willing to let you get up long enough to put some lotion on all these paper cuts, but that is IT.”

Voice of Reason “Look, we have to get up. We have commitments. We can’t work this long and hard at this project and give up now.”

All “SHUT UP!”

Just then, we hear a knock on the door. Everybody pulls together in a monumental effort to stumble across the room and open the door. To be greeted by my lovely host couple, carrying a tray of breakfast and (heavens!) fresh, steaming hot coffee.

We consider taking the tray back to bed, and decide perhaps it would be wiser to stumble to the table, instead. Because falling asleep with hot coffee in hand is rarely a good idea.

Invigorated by the combination of food, coffee, long hot shower, more coffee, and a couple pain pills or so, “We” manage to pull back together into “I” with nominal bickering, and venture forward to face the day.

(From here on “We” refers to all of the separate people involved in KnapsacksofHope , and no longer to me and my warring parts.)

We already knew that there weren’t going to be as many evacuees at Ft McClellan as we had originally been told, so Snuggs had called the center at Cheaha to ask about bringing supplies there.

Then, when she got home on Saturday night, the message light on the answering machine is blinking… from the lady at Cheaha… “Actually, we have plenty of supplies, so why don’t you just take it elsewhere.”

Oh, sure, no problem. We’ve got one day for distribution, and it’s too late at night to call anyone, and tomorrow is Sunday…

A little research, a little juggling of the schedule, a phone call, and we’re heading South to the Wind Creek evacuee center instead. They were more than happy to receive our help.

The four of us (Snuggs, Honkey, Hester and me) climb into Ms Hester’s Texasmobile, our fantastic truck driver follows, and we hit the road.

I went into more details on the KnapsacksofHope blog- suffice to say, it was a fantastic, emotionally rewarding day. Visiting with these “not-right ladies” was a hoot (and I’m almost convinced that they are not, in fact, imaginary. Although the rest of you folks…)

Such a feeling of peace after we delivered the last of the knapsacks… and a bit of a loss, after something we’ve been focusing on for a month is, quite suddenly over.

Now, what shall we do next year?

confession

trilliann — 2005-10-11T04:10:01-05:00

The burden of guilt has at last overwhelmed me. I can no longer keep this bottled up inside- full confession must be made in order for atonement to begin.

I killed Rance.

I don’t know where to begin… I loved him, I did. When we first met, the Rance blog was already a thriving community centered around an entertainingly cynical blog. I never believed he was who others claimed him to be, but we al know I have issues with believing anything about the imaginary people I meet online. Neverless, so enjoyable. Then he began to slow down, and seek help… auditions were help for an Associate… Rubber Duckee stepped up and assisted, originally intending to be temporary. A virus of discontent began to grow, and some members stopped visiting.

But for a while, all was good.

Then it faltered… the gaps between entries became longer…storylines which had the community involved were dropped without explanation… and the virus spread. New allegiances were formed, weakening long standing alliances.

Then new life was breathed into the blog, and a book club unlike any other was formed. The questions were witty and insightful, inspired by the book and characters rather than hyper-analytical.

And again, slowly, the malcontent gained a grip. Weakening enthusiasm led to decreased regularity of posts… which led to even greater discontent… and eventually, another Temporary Associate was sought.

Understanding this to be merely a substitute position, lasting not more than a week or two, I applied. I was never given actual posting privileges, merely sent in entries for another to share.

After a couple of weeks, I found to my surprise that if I didn’t keep it up, no one would. The CPR became exhausting. Life signs continued fading at an alarming rate. Finally, I regretfully walked away.

Perhaps most would not characterize it as murder to trip over a cord and accidentally unhook the life support, when the patient is already basically living as a vegetable.

But the guilt haunts me still.

terror

trilliann — 2005-10-13T08:10:46-05:00

I answered the phone to find my Mother on the other end, crying like a baby. After a few heartstopping minutes, while I managed to determine that there was no immediate emergency, I finally managed to find the cause. Apparently, she read an account of a young man who was in a coma or seemingly vegetative state for a number of years, then some medical treatment managed to restore him to near normal life. It turns out that all that time, he was actually completely aware of his environment, but unable to react to it. Mom started imagining herself in such a state. “I had this mental image… your Father would have me with him, propped up in a wheelchair… in the den while he fixes computers…and (BIG build up here) watching the SciFi channel all day! *sobbing*” That’s right. Her hysteria wasn’t over the concept of being in a vegetative state, of being unable to control her own body, of being in pain and unable to communicate. All of that she found somewhat disturbing. But the mere thought of being forced to watch the sci-fi channel- that sent her into hysterics. “Don’t worry,” I told her “If that ever happens, I’ll make sure Dad subscribes to the Hallmark Channel for you.” (Hormones are funny things, aren’t they?)

Wiiiillllll-maa...

trilliann — 2005-10-18T02:10:14-05:00

No no no no no no no no no no no

Yep, it’s another Hurricane. And this one is on a path to hit Florida by this weekend, where they basically haven’t stopped rebuilding and re-rebuilding for over a year now. The Hurricane Center has actually run thru their entire list of names for the year, for the first time in their history. Any further 'canes will be named after letters of the Greek alphabet.

Incidentally, and in no way comparable, it’s also on a path to ruin my much needed vacation.

We’re supposed to leave for Orlando early Thursday, come back on Tuesday. Worst of the storm is expected to hit Saturday-Sunday. Dangit.

Watching the storm tracking, holding my breath.

Maybe it’ll fizzle out.

Maybe it will head further South.

Maybe it’ll just be a bit rainy as far north as Orlando. A little rain is ok, it keeps the crowds down.

Maybe pigs will fly.

you may be right, I may be crazy

trilliann — 2005-10-19T05:10:45-05:00

As our plan stands right now, we’re still going to Disney World, leaving in about 12 hours.

I should be back by Wednesday. A bit longer, if Hurricane Wilma blows me away. I’m packing my snorkel and water wings, just in case. And my Mary Poppins umbrella.

Ya’ll be good. Or at least good-ish.

checking in

trilliann — 2005-10-20T05:10:28-05:00

Did you know that some McDonalds have WiFi now? This is, without a doubt, the most elegant McD's I've ever seen. Looks like a luxury restaurant.

We made it to Orlando, such an incredibly beautiful day for the drive.

Local weather report doesn't look too bad... we'll see.

no place like home

trilliann — 2005-10-25T08:10:11-05:00

Short version-

Wilma brought some intermittent rain and strong winds, but overall we had lovely weather, and the crowds weren’t too bad. Our rooms were right on a lake, the winds whipped up some pretty spectacular waves a few times, but always calmed down in time for a lovely view of the Disney fireworks from our screened porch.

Oh, and the International Food and Wine Festival at Epcot- definitely worth the trip. Thank God for elastic waistbands.

And now I’m going to get re-acquainted with my own bed. G’nite.

Trip Report- Prequel

trilliann — 2005-10-26T05:10:21-05:00

“We should go to Disney World for a weekend!”

I’m not sure how many years now we’ve been tossing the idea around. Then somebody gets out the calculator and actually comes up with a monetary figure, and the idea peters out for a while… or we have a group with actual plans, and somebody gets engaged/pregnant/divorced/loses their job/starts a new job- whatever, the plans go on the backburner.

So I finally decided that the smaller the group, the better.

This year, it was going to be 7 of us (comprised of 3 married couples and me, of course. As usual.)

My friend (well, business associate) Colin told us he would get us free rooms in exchange for a computer that I was able to get for him at an amazing deal. He was so thrilled when he got the computer, he wanted another one- and added free passes to Walt Disney World and Universal. Colin, you see, works for a large chain of resorts in the Orlando area, and, like me, is a big believer in the Barter system.

Well, heck, you can’t beat free.

“We need to make definite plans soon!” I said, “Before he forgets that he owes us!”

“Ok”, they replied “How ‘bout week after next?”

I’m never happier than when I’m planning a trip, so I merrily began making the arrangements. Colin got us rooms- actually a 1200 square foot apartment that sleeps 9- and promised to fed-ex the theme park tix. I started researching the best days and times to visit each park, what attractions can’t be missed, best eats in and out of the parks.

Walking down the hall at work whistling the Mickey Mouse club theme when someone says “You aren’t going to Florida next week are you? Didn’t you hear about the hurricane?”

*POP!* There goes my balloon.

Thus followed anxious days of watching the weather forecasts… “should we or shouldn’t we…”

By Wednesday night, the pack was down to three. But Ed, Marie, and me were going even if it meant we got swept off the planet…

Thursday at 5 am- anxious phone calls- “Are we still going?”

“Sure, we might as well all die together.”

“Cool! I’ll see you in five minutes!”

Friday- And so it begins

trilliann — 2005-10-27T12:10:34-05:00

To anyone trying to read this who is still stuck in the dark ages with dial-up internet, I sincerely apologize.

The insanely enthusiastic 7 year old that’s stuck in my brain ( frequently singing “I don’t wanna grow up, I’m a toys’r’us kid”) insisted that we get up every hour or so to check the weather, beginning around 4 am. I tried to reason with her that running outside in our pajamas to look at the sky was not actually going to make a bit of difference in how the weather turned out, and that we really needed our rest, but the kid was quite insistent.

Finally, it was 7 am, so I got out of bed and got ready. (Since we ended up with three people in a nine person place, I actually had not only my own room, but three beds and my own private bathroom. Definitely makes traveling easier. )

7:15, I’m ready to go, but there’s no signs of life coming from Ed & Marie’s room. Start a pot of coffee.

No response.

Hold the coffee really close to their door, just to make sure the aroma drifts that way…

Nuthin’.

Turn on the tv to watch the weather report.

Turn the tv just a bit louder.

Start banging pots and pans in the kitchen- we have nothing to cook except instant oatmeal, but it was really noisy oatmeal.

Use my cell phone to call our room, then hang up when Marie answers.

A voice yells at me “I told you we’d leave at 8:30, and we will leave at 8:30! Now would you please SHUT UP!”

Drink my coffee. Very quietly, because, you know, I wouldn’t want to upset my dear, sweet, wonderful friends right at the beginning of a trip and all….

We started our theme parking at Disney’s newest park, “Animal Kingdom” If you aren’t familiar with it, it’s a lot like Busch Gardens, but without the rides. Ok, so it’s a glorified zoo. Excuse me, animal habitat.

As such, it’s rather well done. Huge habitats that look very much like the areas the animals are actually from, and the barriers between creatures were very discreet. I thought for sure that any minute we were going to be treated to a nature show type view of the hunter vs prey.

The centerpiece of the park is the 14 story tall, 50 foot wide “Tree of Life”. At first it just looks like one mondo huge tree, but as you come closer you can see that every inch is covered in carvings of animals- 325 different animals, I’m told. Quite an impressive work of art.

We zoomed straight to the back of the park, to “Kilimanjaro Safaris.” Even though the park had just opened, the line was already 45 minutes long. Fortunately, we knew about FastPass. Fastpass is a free service- instead of waiting in line all day, you zip your little ticket thru a machine, and it gives you a printed slip with a return time. You wander off to other exihibits, eating, shopping, whatever, and come back at your appointed time, then just breeze right past the line, laughing at all the poor saps who either don’t know about FP, or got there too late and all the FP’s were gone, and hop right on. Be sure to duck as the people you laughed at, who have now been waiting in line 3 hours with no end in sight, throw various objects at your head with surprising force and accuracy.

Very cool.

At K’ Safari, you load a dozen or so people on a big jeep thingy- which, I should point out, is a real vehicle, with a real driver, and is actually not on a track. This is a huge improvement. I myself was quite thankful for this, as 4 times on our 20 minute safari critters wandered in front of the jeep and we had to stop until they were ready to pass. (In order, it was a zebra, ostrich, rhino & giraffe.

I, for one, would have found that it put quite a damper of my day if we’d been on the usual automated train and came back to base camp covered in exotic animal guts.

I fully intended to buy myself some dorky Mouse Ears, but I hadn’t realized how much variety there would be. Safari hats with Mouse Ears, Bride and Groom sets, Gold Ears, Tiaras with Ears, Goofy Ears, Classic Ears, Sorcerer Ears, etc…

Not having access to a handy internet quiz along the lines of “What Kind of Mouse are You?”, I began having a deeply philosophical ponderation. What kind of Ears do I choose as an outward symbol to the world of my Inner Mouse?

After discovering that deep within my soul, I am actually Indecisive Mouse, I didn’t buy any at all. (It was either that or pile ‘em all up on my head at once, and my balance isn’t that spectacular.)

The only other attraction really worthy of note was the 3-d “It’s Tough to be a Bug.” Very cute, if you don’t die. It’s located inside the Tree of Life, so the line is actually pretty awesome- you get a close up view of lots of the amazing animal carvings.

They’re building a new exhibit, Expedition Everest, which looks set to be right up there with the coolest rollercoasters ever.

Around this point, I realize that my mental 7 year old has curled up for a nap, and my physical 102 year old had taken over. (In case you’re feeling a bit confused at this point, according to a standard calendar I’m 28. But you know what they say, “You’re as old as you feel…”

Any other confusion I am not equipped to assist you with.)

Anywho, it’s starting to appear that my walking stick ain’t gonna cut it. I have the option of a wheelchair… and I know it’s gonna be a long couple days… but, dangit, I don’t want to spend the day being pushed around with a butt-high view.

my inner child is not stifled

trilliann — 2005-10-27T07:10:49-05:00

<><>

Your Inner Child Is Surprised

You see many things through the eyes of a child.

Meaning, you're rarely cynical or jaded.

You cherish all of the details in life.

Easily fascinated, you enjoy experiencing new things.

How Is Your Inner Child?

Trilliann And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

trilliann — 2005-11-02T05:11:39-05:00

I thought I was doing better… worked about ¾ of my usual schedule yesterday, and while I may be suffering from decreased brain power due to lack of oxygen, my co-workers are used to dealing with that by now.

Today, I had appointments to speak with officials in three different counties regarding some of our current building projects. The first one went well, but took a bit longer than expected, so I was rushing a bit to get to the next.

(Weak stomachs may wish to stop here.)

Still feeling pretty puny- can’t get a good breath, general icky feeling (to use the scientific term. ;) )

Driving along, and suddenly had an attack of violent vomiting. No warning, no time to pull to the side of the road… I felt like hester , but with a completely different bodily fluid.

At this point, I’m about an hour’s drive away from home, covered in blech, and still absolutely have to get to at least one more of my scheduled meetings.

So, I dug out every napkin, tissue, and piece of replaceable paperwork that I can muster, and got as cleaned up as I could. Found a store, and managed to walk in, trying to look like I have no idea that my clothing is not exactly spotless, or that I stink to high heaven. Visited the ladies room, attempted to wash up a bit more, and realized that just wasn’t going to cut it. So, I stroll back out into the store, grab a cart, and attempt to look at clothing without coming too near other shoppers. Grabbed the first pants and shirt that even sort of fit, and went to the register.

And, of course, when I’m the next person in line, the registers went down. All they could accept was cash. Which no one had. Meanwhile, I’m getting some rather unpleasant rumblings in my tummy again… left my cart there, visited the Ladies again, and came back to rejoin the line. Eventually managed to pay and change into my new clothes, but I know I still didn’t exactly smell like a rose.

Dropped off papers at second county rather than meeting with them, left and got stuck in traffic- the highway was down to one lane because of repaving. The smell of tar was not exactly helpful, either. Left my mark in the new highway, before I finally got to the office, where I explained in detail to my boss what my problem was, gave him a list of my responsibilities that absolutely cannot wait until I am well, told him I’d be sure to call and let him know what hospital to send flowers to if they admit me, and that I would see him on Monday otherwise.

I have filled in for other people more times than I can count when they’re out sick or on vacation, and no one ever helps with my duties when I’m out. This time, it’s on his head.

the great debate- chair vs cane

trilliann — 2005-11-03T05:11:00-05:00

As I mentioned previously, we breezed thru the highlights of Animal Kingdom in about 2 hours, and already I was dragging. There was obviously no way I was going to survive the day with just my walking stick, but I seriously hate being in my wheelchair. Before I said anything, I noticed Ed grimacing and holding his back, and Marie limping. Yeah, not the healthiest group around.

We came up with the brilliant solution of sharing the wheelchair. Walk in an attraction with one person riding, walk out with another. (Second person is leaning on the chair for support as they help push it, third using walking stick, so we all had some help.) If anyone confronted us on it, we were quite prepared to discuss our medical pedigrees, including my late stage lyme disease, Ed’s back & neck surgery (he has several vertebrae welded together and held in place with a titanium plate) and Marie’s knee surgery.

All prepared and no one seemed to notice.

It was great- no one had to put up with bouncing along in the wheelchair all day, which believe me, loses any novelty or fun it may have in about five minutes- but we each gave our assorted weaknesses a break and all managed to still be alive for the fireworks!

By the way, contrary to popular belief, you cannot jump lines at any Disney park because of any disability. The most popular attractions have fastpass anyway- other rides may possibly have a different entrance for guests in wheelchairs, purely for logistical reasons, such as stairs, but they make sure you wait as long as everyone else.

They do have special viewing areas for parades and fireworks, but you have to get there as early as anyone anywhere else if you want to be able to see.

Even if they did still let people skip lines, in my opinion it would so not be worth it. (I am speaking of manual chairs, not those fancy schmancy electric thingies.)

Think about it. All day long, bouncing along, being jarred by every bump in the road. (These things do not have shocks, those imitation cobblestones could cause brain damage.) You are at eye level with the average adult posterior, not generally the most pleasant view. Navigating lines and sidewalks is a pain, stores are impossible. The slightest incline might as well be a mountain. Getting going is difficult, stopping even more so.

You also, apparently, become invisible. People walk in front of you, step back to take a picture and fall in your lap, step in front of you to block your view at shows, and then have the nerve to complain when you run over their toes. They speak to your companions about you as though you can’t hear and/or understand, feel licensed to ask the most personal questions, and avoid eye contact unless it’s to give you a pitying half smile.

On the other hand, for some reason I’ve found that when walking with a cane, people tend to be very helpful. They hold doors (which is always nice, but I do still have a hand free- when I’m in the chair is when a held door would really help) make eye contact, smile, generally give you a bit more personal space. In my years of using a walking stick, I have never had a stranger approach me to ask why I need it, but it happens all the time in the few times I’ve used the chair.

Anyhow, I’m debating the psychology of this. Why do you think it is that people are generally helpful but non intrusive to those walking with support, but unbearably rude and uncomfortable around people in a wheelchair?

I look forward to hearing your theories.

Around the World in Eight Hours

trilliann — 2005-11-07T07:11:57-05:00

Epcot is the epitome of American style travel.

Our European counterparts take month long holidays, often to soak in just one area.

Whereas we, with some of the least annual vacation time in the civilized world, feel the need to see as much as possible as quickly as possible. How many times have tourists bragged of “doing” 4 countries in 8 days?

Of course, we can hardly complain- in much of the world the very concept of time off is completely unknown.

This is what makes Epcot the ideal travel destination. You can “do” eleven countries in one day! Without all that bother with border officials, money changing, passports, and people who don’t speak English! See all of the tourist traps! Important landmarks! Semi-cultural experiences! Overpriced trinkets that are beautiful in the store, yet somehow transform into cheap junk before you get it home!

Sarcasm aside, it’s as corny as it comes, and I am a corn connoisseur.

Here’s my impression of the “countries” at Epcot, going around the world…er, lake… from left to right.

MEXICO

Designed to look like the ancient pyramids in Mexico. Your first example of how the designers used “forced perspective” thru out the park. FP means that the design incorporates illusions so that buildings appear different size than they actually are. The pyramid looks impressive, but if you inspect it you’ll see that the blocks get smaller the taller it gets, giving an illusion of greater height.

Having nearly killed myself several times over when climbing the massive pyramids at Teotihuacan, I’m rather underwhelmed. Pretty little garden to the right you can enter thru, the interior is designed to look like a marketplace at dusk. Lots of overpriced trinkets and crappy Americanized “Mexican” food. Good margaritas, though.

This country has a boat ride- pretty tame, meant to be like a tour. What really amazed me is that the vast majority of the actors in the little films all thru the ride where so undeniably white. Just a few look vaguely Hispanic. I’m bewildered by this. I mean, we’re in Florida, not somewhere in the middle of Siberia where there might not happen to be any Hispanics handy.

NORWAY

An impressive authentic Stave church, lots of Vikings and goblins. Another indoor boat ride, this one is mildly thrilling. By far the best part is the videos of the gorgeous countryside as you exit the ride. They say that Norway tourism skyrocketed after this pavillion opened- I can see why. I could totally live in Norway. If it weren't, like, all cold and stuff.

CHINA

Beautifully well done architecture, typical chinese carry out food. Try to be here when the child acrobats have their outdoor show, it's really impressive.

There's a 360 degree movie here, Reflections of China. What an incredibly beautiful country! I could so totally live in China. If they weren't, you know, communists and put MSG in everything they serve.

GERMANY

Ah, yes, the country of about 25% of my heritage. Lots of men in embroidered shorts with suspenders, and a very cool toy store. No movie or ride.

Moving on.

ITALY

Deciding to ignore the rest of the rich culture and history of this magnificint country, they focused only on the jewel in the crown, Venice. I am totally ok with that. Beautiful rendition of the Doge's Palace. No ride or film, but try to be here when the marble statues come to life. Not in a mechanical Vegas way, but as in real live people who apparently have no need to breathe or open their eyes and can stand freakishly still. Wait until an unsuspecting tourist stops to take a picture with these "marble" statues- they change position so quickly you almost can't see it, and they love to play with the audience, stealing hats or leaning on a shoulder. Very funny!

USA

The USA pavillion is actually the only one that uses forced perspective to make the building appear smaller than they are. Colonial America, Disneyfied.

This is the half way point around the lake, so I think I'll take a break.

enough

trilliann — 2005-11-08T01:11:27-05:00

Weather Yesterday- 80 degrees and sunny

Today- 80 and sunny

Wednesday- 80 and sunny

Thursday- Oh! Scattered showers and only 65!

Friday- Sunny and back up to 75

Saturday ditto

Sunday ditto

Would someone please tell the weatherman that it's NOVEMBER? What's with all this sunshine and warmth?! I have a closet full of long sleeves just begging to be worn, ya know.

TAG! You're IT!

trilliann — 2005-11-08T10:11:23-05:00

1. Go into your archives.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Post the fifth sentence (or closest to it).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same thing.

My fifth sentence (or close to) of my 23rd post was: "To my knowledge, only one of them has since been convicted of a crime."

I had the darndest time trying to find 5 people in my contacts who hadn't already been tagged...

the second 4 hours

trilliann — 2005-11-10T08:11:15-05:00

Continuing our trip around the world... of Epcot.

JAPAN

Beautifully rendered architecture, very confining traditional clothing. Did I mention that we were there during the “Flood and Whine”… erm, I mean “International Food and Wine” festival? So every few feet, there was another booth with local food, wine and/or beer. In between each of the regular “countries” were a few extra booths with food from other countries- appetizer size portions, each around $2-$3 each.

In Japan we had Spicy Tuna Roll. Very good- but it was still a bit early in the day to try the Sake or Plum Wine.

In between Japan and Morocco was an India booth- we had a Samosa and some Chicken Curry. Good, but a bit bland compared to the Indian food I’m used to. I mean, you could eat it and it didn’t bring tears to your eyes or anything.

MOROCCO

Once again, no movie or ride, but this is still probably my favorite of the pavilions. The road winds around behind the buildings, covered in mosaics, as you wander thru a open air market, surrounded by the perfume of exotic spices. The only time it felt like you were really in another land. Plus, I discovered a great space to stretch out under a tree and take a nap.

Excellent Hummus with Pita. I would’ve liked to try the Shish Kabob, but I was trying to pace myself. I knew many fantastic culinary experiences were yet to come…

The Turkish booth smelled good, but no room in the tummy yet. I wanted to try the Bostana and assorted Helva and Loukoums. I have no idea what any of that is. (Which is a big part of the appeal.)

The next country we come to is

FRANCE

I actually have no desire whatsoever to try the Escargot, but my Éclair was magnifique.

This area looks like an extremely clean and sanitized fairy tale version of Paris. They have another humongous movie. How incredibly gorgeous… I’m telling you, I could totally live in France. If it weren’t for the occasional revolutions.

New Zealand booth- think I’ll skip the Lamb Slider, thanks anyway.

Poland booth- the Pierogies look heavenly, but they have Kiebasa, and I’m allergic to pork.

UNITED KINGDOM

The English Rose Garden is small but relaxing. The fish & chips were nothing special. They had a live show here in the Square, called “The British Invasion.” Obviously, a Beatles tribute band. They were quite good, actually. My Dad made certain I appreciated the Beatles from the time I was still in the womb, and obviously they aren’t going to be having any reunion tours any time soon, so it was fun.

CANADA

I think everything on the menu had “Maple” in the name, except the Inniskillin.

Lovely garden that you walk thru on the way to the film “Oh, Canada.” No RCMP in evidence. *sigh* I guess they didn't want to be bothered with building stables for the horses. And what's a Mountie without a horse? Another one of those 360 degree movies that gives you whiplash from trying to see it all. Oh. My. Lord. How absolutely gorgeous can it get, eh? I could totally live in Canada. Well, there is that horrible cold thing again. They say that they actually have this white stuff that falls from the sky- I think they called it “snow”- and it’s actually frozen water. Can you believe that? And it covers everything for, like, half the year! And they don’t even close the schools or anything! I just don’t think I could deal.

Canada is the last of the countries on our tour, but there were a couple more temporary booths. Most notably, my absolute favorite of the day, Greece! I had Spanakopita, Moussaka, and Karydopita, with Boutari Moschofilero White Wine. I couldn’t decide whether it was more fun to say the names or eat the stuff… decidedly the best food of the day.

Thus ends our culinary journey around the world in 8 hours.

fear

trilliann — 2005-11-15T12:11:16-05:00

Ever feel like there’s someone watching you? Unexplained movements or sound, which your rational mind tells you is nothing more than the product of lack of sleep and overactive imagination (or bugs on the brain?)

I’m trying to get caught up on massive backlog of work, after having been on vacation, then sick, then having major server issues for a week after “upgrades.”

I didn’t realize how late it was until Sylvia, the cleaning lady, startled me out of my paperwork induced stupor, walking in to empty my trash. Looking up, I see that it’s gone completely dark outside. “Just thirty more minutes,” I tell myself. “Thirty more minutes, and I’ll go home, no matter how much is left.”

I see movement outside the window from the corner of my eye. The door rattles- someone forgot their keys, and needs back in. Being the office closest to the side door, I roll my chair into the hallway to let them in.

Nobody’s there.

Probably just the wind.

About an hour later, as I walk down the hall to pick up some more papers off the printer, I catch a glimpse of light flashing by the door at the other end of the long hallway.

That’s odd.

Probably just Sylvia.

Hope she didn’t lock herself out- the automatic door locks engaged a couple hours ago. Needing to stretch anyway, I walk down to check it out.

Normally, I enjoy being the only one in the office- everything is peaceful, no interruptions or “re-prioritizing.” Tonight, as I wander past rows of empty offices, it seems too quiet. Paperwork scattered and chairs pushed back as though their occupants had just stepped away. Blank, staring black eyes of computer monitors follow as I go past. The lonely wail of a police siren rises and falls in the night.

Reaching the door, I peer into the darkness. No sign of Sylvia out there- or, indeed, of who or what else may have caused the light I saw flicker. Nothing but woods and the river on this side of the building.

Probably just a reflection.

I decide to take the long way back to my desk, pausing by the front door on the way. No sign of Sylvia’s car- she must have already finished and gone home. Odd that she didn’t say goodnight.

My car is just visible at the far end of the parking lot. Just then, one of the street lights flickers, then dies. No longer able to see my car, I have the eerie feeling that it’s no longer there.

I’ve got to shake this mood. Definitely time to go home. I’ll just go back to my office, turn off the computer, gather my stuff and go. The work will wait ‘til morning. It always does.

The hallways in the office are long, and lined by windows, each with a monotonous view of the darkness outside.

Another siren in the distance. I remember that a convict escaped from a nearby hospital last week… last I heard they hadn’t caught him yet…

Ok, definitely time to go home.

But maybe I’ll just call someone on my cell while I walk… erm, run… to the car. Sling my bags on my shoulder, and grab my phone from its holster as I hit the door.

Phone isn’t there. Let go the door, step back in… my phone is always in its holster. Where else would I have left it? Dig in the purse, the briefcase, not there. Ok, I’ll call it from the land line.

Phone is ringing, but I still can’t find it. Call again and again… the sound echoes and bounces around the room like a crazed bird, refusing to light in one place long enough to be caught.

Finally…. finally I find it. On the pullout shelf, stuck behind the keyboard. How the heck did it get there?

Rush to the car, glancing over my shoulder, unlock the door, hop in, lock the doors again. Breathe a sigh of relief, then laugh at myself a bit. Hang up the phone.

Suddenly realize that I didn’t look in the backseat before I got in….

Come on, now, it’s a small car. There’s no way anyone could be hiding back there.

Really.

I don’t even need to look over my shoulder.

Absolutely not.

Rickety old dump truck pulls on to the highway behind me. Already following too close, he turns on his high beams. No matter how I angle the mirrors, the reflection is blinding.

Turn onto the country road that leads me home, and the truck suddenly veers off in another direction. Relief is rapidly followed by the realization that the road is very. Very. Dark.

The moon plays peek a boo thru the heavy cloud cover stretched over the sky, diffusing the light to a wandering glow.

Then it happens… the moment I subconsciously knew was coming all evening. A hand brushes my scalp, then falls to grasp my shoulder.

Time slows. As if from a distance, I hear a high pitched scream echo thru the night, watch as the car veers off the road onto the shoulder.

Summoning up every ounce of nerve left in my body, I reach over my shoulder and grab the…..

Jacket. Which I hung on the back of my seat when I left this morning, and realized it was too warm to wear it today.

Drat this warm weather.

So, that’s how I got a new scratch on my car and strained a muscle in my neck.

I sure showed that jacket who’s boss, though.

And how was your day?

This pretty much sums it up. http://www.biteycastle.com/taken.htm

PS_I give you fair warning. Anyone who feels the need to seriously suggest the presence of otherworldly beings of any nature (other than borrelia burgdorferi and a hyperactive imagination which may in fact have a mind of its own) will be deleted. And I’ve been itching to try out this new “block a user” feature. My blog, my rules.

preponderance

trilliann — 2005-11-18T09:11:05-05:00

If you mixed vodka with orange juice and milk of magnesia, would you get a Philips Screwdriver?

If a pig loses its voice, is it disgruntled?

Why are a wise man and a wise guy opposites?

Why do overlook and oversee mean opposite things?

If a pig loses its voice, is it disgruntled?

If I eat equal amounts of dark chocolate and white chocolate, is that a balanced diet? Don't they actually counteract each other?

If men can run the world, why can't they stop wearing neckties?How intelligent is it to start the day by tying a noose around your neck?

How is it that a 2 pound box of chocolate can make you gain 5 lbs?

ponderance

trilliann — 2005-11-21T01:11:02-05:00

If you’re a man and have a sex change operation, would your car insurance rates go down?

Why do they call it lipstick, when it’s always coming off?

If I eat pasta and antipasta, will I still be hungry? (Or, will I spontaneously combust?)

If all the world is a stage, where does the audience sit?

If you try to fail and succeed, what have you done?

If swimming is supposed to be good for your figure, then why are whales so fat?

If you choke a Smurf, what color would it turn?

When sign makers go on strike, is there anything written on their signs?

If someone with multiple personalities threatens to kill himself, is it considered a hostage situation?

shhhhh......

trilliann — 2005-11-23T11:11:07-05:00

I've never been so proud to work for this company.

We've done some great things, fundraisers for the Red Cross, Children's Shelters, Make a Wish foundation, helping out Habitat for Humanity.

We've won a whole hallway full of prestigious awards.

But this one makes me really excited.

But the official announcement has not yet been made, so I can't tell you. Yet. ;)

comfortably numb

trilliann — 2005-11-26T10:11:08-05:00

So, for those of you keeping track, I've been doing quite well for a while now. Well, except for that whole pleurisy thing. The Evil Lyme Bugs are definitely on the run. (Whoo-hoo!)

However, ever so often they like to take a parting shot.

While most of my weird symptoms have gradually gone away, (leaving me with merely a multitude of not so weird symptoms) I still have numbness- or more accurately, lack of feeling- in my hands, feet and face.

I should really go back and rewrite that sentence. But I won't.

Anyhow, today I stood up (or tried to) and my feet were completely numb. My foot went one way, ankle went the other, loud CRACK-ing noises insued.

Not much pain, because still completely numb, but the immediate swelling can't be a good thing, right? Few hour of ice and it's still swelling, and turning rather unpleasant shades of green and purple, so off to Urgent Care for me.

Nothing broken, thankfully, just a hairline fracture of an itty bitty foot bone, and a second degree ankle sprain, whatever that means. Doc says should be ok in a couple weeks, if I'm good and keep weight off of it.

Bad enough that it can't take any weight, but not bad enough for prescription pain killers, basically.

This would be the point where your help comes in. You see, if I walk - hobble- in on crutches, with my foot all bandaged up, people are going to ask "What happened?" And my reply is "Oh, I tried to stand up and my feet were numb, so I fell and sprained my ankle."

Well, that's just boring.

I need a better story than that. Some exciting, yet brief and at least somewhat believable story.

Ideas?

irresponsible

trilliann — 2005-11-30T09:11:18-05:00

A local news show just did an investigation to find out what the emergency evacuation plan is for Atlanta. The rather surprising news is that there isn’t one, at all.

Ok, so dealing with Government officials every day in my job, I would have to honestly admit that it isn’t all that shocking that they haven’t gotten around to making a disaster plan.

The jaw dropping part was when they interviewed the person in charge of the City’s emergency management bureau. She gave the interviewer a condescending look and a bit of a ladylike snort as she said “I cannot imagine any reason why there would be a need to evacuate the entire city.”

When they brought up the recent example of the evac of Houston, she gave a more incredulous look and replied “Houston was evacuated? I was not aware of that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cannot imagine any reason… like, oh, I dunno, natural disasters. Terrorism. Aliens. Chemical spill. We live in the city with the headquarters of the CDC, for crying out loud. Do you know what kind of bacteria they store there, and how little of a breach could infect the entire city?!? New Orleans Mayor Nagin is looking like the model of preparedness and good sense right about now.

And this is the person who is responsible for the safety of the 4 million people in the Atlanta metro area.

Yeah. We’re all gonna die

comments welcome

trilliann — 2005-12-01T12:12:22-05:00

Couple of prints from a photo session I did for a friend & hand tinted. I stuck ‘em on the scanner too soon, though, so they’re just a bit smeared. These paints take days to dry completely.

It’s been a while since I’ve done this, so constructive criticism would be quite welcome.

day without art

trilliann — 2005-12-01T02:12:52-05:00

Due to shiny ’s reminder that today is World Aids Day, and one way to draw attention to that is thru the Day Without Art initiative, I have removed the pictures I posted earlier today. I’ll repost tomorrow.

By some estimates, as much as 80% of AIDS victims live in Africa. Lack of adequate treatment is a big part of the problem, but lack of education and understanding are the real monsters.

Prevention is the best cure.

Take a moment from your busy schedules to pray for all those affected by this horror. Then put feet to your prayer, and make a donation to the charity of your choice, whether searching for a cure, spreading awareness, or offering care.

who needs sleep?

trilliann — 2005-12-03T02:12:41-05:00

Many of the worlds greatest artists find that their masterpieces are inspired by spates of insomnia. The poet who finds just the right words after hours of tossing and turning. The writer who finally resolves that annoying hanging plot line thru a flash of inspiration in the wee small hours. The brokenhearted musician, who composes the song that touches the hearts of millions in ten minutes while listening to the rhythm of the dripping roof. The moon works her magic, and more beauty is brought into the world. I, unfortunately, am not a great artist. The fickle moon shows her sense of humor by keeping those of us with mediocre at best talent awake anyway, striving to hear the notes of her song- almost catching the melody- but always just out of reach. This being the case, insomnia in me tends to result in pages of flowery, overwrought prose. Even, on occasion, moving me to commit the crime of poetry. (the horror!) (Perhaps part of the problem is that great Artists are kept wake by pain in the soul, while I am merely kept awake by pain in the foot.) I find myself seriously tempted to write my treatise in defense of Jane Austen. I am, however, attempting to exert some self control. Perhaps I should take an Ambien. Quickly.

ever so lost

trilliann — 2005-12-03T03:12:29-05:00

I am oddly fascinated by this somewhat bizarre ad for Lost that they're showing in the UK. Why do they get cooler- or, rather, hotter- ads than we do?

They've just started Season 1 there, so here's pretty, pretty Boone and Shannon, back from beyond.

Lost Promo
Video Codes By HotGet.com

let it snow

trilliann — 2005-12-05T03:12:11-05:00

Coupla oldies but goodies, couple that were new to me.

Enjoy!

odd, that.

trilliann — 2005-12-07T05:12:20-05:00

In case anyone was wondering why I’ve been apparently randomly changing fonts and font size in my comments lately…. I’m not. My computer at work has a vendetta against me, and likes to produce some very strange, and at times disturbing, results.

When I’m surfing, the font size as it appears on my screen will randoml;y change from huge to tiny, all on the same page. And when I type anything here, it turns out all funky. Emphasizing different words then I would have, giving entirely different meaning to my comments.

Yeah. Odd, that.

wizard of odds

trilliann — 2005-12-07T05:12:29-05:00

Speaking of odd.

I was driving down the highway today, when I saw a guy hitchhiking. That in itself is rare enough these days to rate a second glance.

But what really caught my attention… the guy was older, very clean cut, and dressed for a day of golfing. Neatly pressed white linen slacks, button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up just so, spiffy little sweater vest, sun visor, and golf shoes. Holding a neatly printed sign that read “MACON”

I was tempted to pull over and offer him a ride, just to find out his story. Lost a bet? Vitally important golf game, and the car broke down?

Unfortunately, with gift baskets, briefcase, crutches and me all crammed in the car, there really wasn’t room in the car anyhow. And I wasn’t going anywhere near Macon.

Curious, though.

nothing's gonna change my world

trilliann — 2005-12-08T02:12:13-05:00

Life is just what happens to you,
While you're busy making other plans

Why do we canonize celebrities who die young? In the normal course of things, they would have found it more and more difficult to find an audience as the signs of age advanced. In our youth oriented culture, the shouting crowds dwindle. The producers are no longer lined up at the door. You may sell a few albums, make a few movies based on the hazy memory of your glory days. And when you finally pass on to the mists of eternity, a news blip marks your passing. Maybe, if you’re lucky, an hour long retrospective.

But for those who die young, immortalized in the collective memory as beautiful and tragic, their star need never set.

Today is the 25^th anniversary of John Lennon’s death.

A brilliant dreamer, who saw the world as it could be, and used his fame to promote peace and love between all mankind.

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Who, in his personal life, could not find it in his heart to forgive.

the only thing you done was
yesterday
and since you've gone it's just
another day
how do you sleep?
ah how do you sleep at night?
a pretty face may last a year
or two
but pretty soon they'll see
what you can do
the sound you make is muzak
to my ears

Who loved one son, recording loving songs for him, and abandoned another- leaving someone else to write a song for the less loved child. (Coincidentally, the song of the less loved is still a hit, while few know the lullaby.)

Bewildered by the waning enthusiasm, failing to grasp that several lights together can cast a beam thru the darkness that few can resist, but one separately may become but a pinpoint.

The dream is over
What can I say?
the Dream is Over
Yesterday
I was the Dreamweaver
But now I'm reborn
I was the Walrus
But now I'm John
and so dear friends
you'll just have to carry on
The Dream is over

But we do not speak ill of the dead. Remember the brilliance of a star that shone so bright, only to be blotted out far before it’s time.

Sounds of laughter shades of life
are ringing through my open ears
inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which
shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe

Nothing's gonna change my world

*all italicized lyrics copied from the liner notes of my Father’s extensive collection. Hopefully I got them all right.

progress report

trilliann — 2005-12-09T07:12:02-05:00

No more crutches!

Can I get a WHOOOO-HOOOO!!!!!! ?

Still have to wear this stunningly fashionable boot brace thingummy for another couple weeks, but at least I'll be on two feet and not three at my cousins wedding next weekend. Doubt I'll be doing much dancing at the reception, though. Oh, well. Probably not the greatest idea for someone as stunningly uncoordinated as myself, anyhow.

Quite good timing, too, since I'm supposed to be delivering the end of the year gift baskets to all 17 different government offices that I regularly do business with, and there is simply no way to carry a large, unevenly shaped gift basket while both hands are busy transporting you. Heck, I never even figured out how to carry a cuppa coffee. Had to be all sweet to my coworkers to con them into carrying it for me, since the kitchen is on the opposite side of the long building from my office.

knight in shining armor

trilliann — 2005-12-12T02:12:52-05:00

I remember the first morning that I saw him.

Driving to work, I saw a strange form looming thru the early morning mist. A 15 foot tall dragon, fiercely rearing back on his haunches, spewing silver tongues of flame.

As this seemed a rather unusual addition to my morning commute, I first check my coffee to make sure it doesn’t smell “funny”, blink hard a few times, then take a second look.

And then I saw him… armor shining as the first rays of sunlight broke thru, a brave knight engaged the fiercesome beast in battle. No sign of fear in the face of seemingly impossible odds. Leaning back at an improbable angle, sword raised high, ready to come smashing down at any moment.

It was an incredible and unexpected work of art to suddenly appear in an office park. I had to know more.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. Within days, an information box was installed beside the “Aspen Knight.” Shortly thereafter, chains were also installed around the perimeter of the installation, in an effort to have people keep a respectful distance. (Didn’t work very well- I drove past once to see some idiot parent putting their child up on the dragon’s back for a picture. Of course, every glistening scale was sharp metal, and the child was wearing shorts. Try explaining that injury at the emergency room.)

The information sheet only increased my fascination. The artist, Sean Guerrero, created the sculpture from over 400 chrome bumpers from 1930's & 40's cars and 300 dozen [3600] soup spoons. It weighs over 5,500 pounds, and took about 10 months to build.

Chrome bumpers and soup spoons.

The sculpture became inspirational to me. Passing it every day reminded me to continue doing battle with my own dragons. If he could take items that were discarded as worthless, and create such beauty, then maybe it was possible to keep pushing on for another day.

That brave knight would never put down his sword in defeat. Win or lose, the battle would be well fought.

I will not give in to this disease. I will never accept that maybe this is as well as I can expect to be. I will seek out my limitations, just so that I can stretch the boundaries.

Of course, I always “meant to” go and take a few rolls of film worth of pictures. Somehow, it never quite happened. If I had the time, then it was raining, or there were too many people around. I managed to grab a snapshot or two, but nothing that began to capture the energy and power.

And then, as unexpectedly as they appeared, they were gone.

The offices were dark and empty. And what of the enemies? How did their mighty battle end? Did one take off, bloodied but victorious, as the other was no more? Are they now adorning some executive’s backyard? Do they glisten in the sun from atop a pile of refuse at a nearby dump?

Did they, perhaps, realize that if they united their forces, each could grow from the strengths of the other- that together they could be so much more than just the sum of their parts?

That’s how I chose to imagine them- man and beast united, flying off into the sunset.

Similiar piece by the same artist

buh-bye

trilliann — 2005-12-16T01:12:12-05:00

Overheard today "Why do they always send the firetruck to any emergency, even when there's no fire, and the ambulance or police are closer? I mean, what are they gonna do if the other paramedics are already there - wash 'em off?"

On that note of wierdness...

My backlog of reading all my friends blogs is a bit overwhelming. And I am leaving in about five minutes to drive 7 hours (yes, with my right foot still in a cast) to attend a wedding way out in the boonies, and will not be at a computer again until sometime Monday, at which time I will need to be focusing on my job if I intend to still have one. Which I do.

So, frankly, I ain't gonna manage to read it all.

If you have written anything particularly scintillating in the last week or so, or happen to do so over the weekend, let me know.

If I don't hear from you, I'll assume it was junk and move on.

I'm sure you understand.

no escape

trilliann — 2005-12-21T06:12:19-05:00

I’m surrounded by relatives whom I barely recall having met once before, when I was about 6, at another family wedding. Or possibly a funeral. They each greet me with a powerful hug that knocks me off my foot- which provides our first topic of conversation.

Try to spin out that story a bit, but there’s really not much to say once you get past “Well, I tried to stand up, and it didn’t quite work out. Just a bad sprain.”

Quickly, find a subject to distract them… “Doesn’t the bride look lovely?”

Darn. That was just playing into their hands, leading exactly where they wanted to go. It’s coming, I can feel it. The Question.

“So, when are you getting married?”

“It may happen someday, but I’m in no rush.”

“You aren’t the spring chicken anymore, you’d better bag a good one while you can!”

“Well, I’m only 28, you know. Still plenty of time. So, what do you think of the debate on intelligent design?”

“Have you tried internet dating? It worked great for my neighbor’s cousin’s sister-in-law. Of course, there was this other guy she met that she had to take out a restraining order, then move and change her name, but eventually she met this really lovely man. He gave her all kinds of tips on how to legally change her name and change her appearance in little ways so that creep couldn’t find her… then he started calling just to make sure she was ok, and they fell in love! Of course, he travels for business a lot, so she ends up being alone a lot… but, they’re such a lovely couple!”

A server goes by carrying a tray of champagne glasses. I snag one and raise it to my lips for a gulp. That’s odd. It’s empty, and I don’t remember taking a sip…

“Miss, those are the dirties I was taking back to the kitchen.”

“Oh. Right. Um, this one looked like it was about to tip over- just trying to help!”

Aunt Somebodyorother opens her mouth to continue the interrogation.

I look over her shoulder and exclaim “Cousin Zelda! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Smiling my apologies to my inquisitor, I hobble towards the nonexistent cousin. Quick, blend with the crowd… there must be a single guy here that I can conspire with. Preferably one I’m not related to. We’ll pretend to be a couple, have a big public fight, and the Question should stop for a while.

No such luck. There don’t appear to be any single guys here at all- even ones I am related to.

The lovely server brings me a fresh glass of champagne. He’s rather cute, actually. Just as I’m smiling my thanks to him, I’m ambushed from behind with another lift me off the ground hug.

“Look at little Trill, all grown up! So, when are you getting married?”

“Actually, I’m pretty content as I am.”

*hearty laughter* “You’re so funny! Come on now, who’ve you got lined up?”

The champagne bubbles float to my head, and everything starts looking a bit misty. Funny, that. I’ve only had one glass. Or was that one bottle?

I’ll keep trying until I find an answer that works.

I don’t believe in marriage.

Wish I knew!

The majority of marriages end in divorce. I just figured I’d save myself some time and money.

Sip some more champagne. You know, maybe I should have eaten something first…

Tomorrow! Sorry we couldn’t invite you, it’s a very small ceremony. But we’re registered at Target, if you’d like to send a gift!

Well, he’s up for parole in six months. We’ll see how that goes before we start making plans.

I get down on my knees every night and ask that question of the Almighty, but thus far He, in His infinite wisdom, has not seen fit to answer my prayer.

*tears welling up* I can’t believe you would ask that when it’s only been 3 months since the accident!

Oh didn’t you hear? Johnny Depp left me at the altar. It was in all the papers. Oh my, is that a paparazzi behind that bush? Excuse me, gotta run…

If only I could find a husband like yours, I’d have him hogtied and legal before he knew what was happening. How have ya’ll been doing, anyway? I hear he’s been traveling a lot for “business” lately?

I’m starting to enjoy this, when the room begins to spin just a bit too fast for my liking. I find a corner with a wall that definitely needs me to hold it up for a bit, and concentrate on not breaking out in song.

“One less bell to answer…. One less egg to fry-e-i-ei…”

Oops. Did I sing that out loud? No stares so probably not. Ok, concentrate. Oh, look there’s that server again. Poor guy, his arm is probably getting tired from that heavy tray… let’s lighten his load a bit.

As I weave…erm, walk past the bride table, I hear it. Aunt Whoever is hugging the bride as she says “So, when are you two going to start a family?”

A feeling of peace washes over me like a flash flood in the desert.

Like having to squaredance to “Elvira” with the 300 pound nearsighted class klutz in junior high, while wearing open toed shoes, it never ends.

When are you going to have a baby?

When are you going to have another?

When are you going to buy a house?

There is no escape.

I have, however, come up with a brilliantly twisted plan. I’ll get back to you on that one after I've worked out a few details.

brilliantly devious

trilliann — 2005-12-22T11:12:59-05:00

I’m still working on the details, but here’s the basic idea for my devious plan to … well, I don’t expect it will end The Question. But maybe distract them for a while.

I will throw myself a decoy wedding.

This will serve multiple purposes. First and foremost, of course, when asked “So, when are you getting married?” I can reply “March 24, 2007!”

Well, maybe I can’t draw the fauxgagement out quite that long. I suppose the longer the wait, the more suspicion will be raised when the mysterious He is always busy, or sick, or out of town, and never quite manages to meet everyone.

Another decided advantage is that I’ll finally be able to get all of my friends and family that I love together in one place. I’ve tried for years to arrange a gathering, but when there isn’t an “occasion”, it’s never a good date for everyone. However, they all always manage to make it work for a wedding. You don’t even have to consult “Um, will this date be good for you?” No sir, you just pop those “save the date” orders in the mail and good and well tell them when to be there.

Since it isn’t a real wedding, I can have fun with all the details, rather than stressing over them. This means that the dress will be bought on eBay, the catering will be by Giovanni’s Pizza Delivery, and the cake will be made of stacks of Krispy Kreme donuts.

I already have my great-grandmothers engagement ring, so that’s one less expense.

All the fun of planning a wedding, none of the consequences.

So, I’m thinking at least a year of engagement- must keep careful records of any gifts, so as to properly offer to return them, of course. (And if anyone refuses to take them back, then, well, that’s their choice, isn’t it?)

He lives out of state- possibly out of the country? So he’s not here much. I can make random trips to people and places I’ve been wanting to visit, using the ruse that I’m going to visit Him.

I have enough friends who have never met each other that we should be ok, no suspicion about why there doesn’t seem to be anyone from the groom’s side.

The Big Day finally arrives, and he doesn’t show up. Maybe a telegram comes expressing his regret, that would be cool- do they still have telegrams? Other than the singing kind? ‘Cause that would be kinda tacky.

A few moments of tears and minor hysteria, then I bravely stand in front of everyone and say “Look, it didn’t turn out like we planned… but there’s food, you’re all here, let’s party!”

After that, I should be safe from The Question for at least a few months, just by bursting into tears at the mention of the “m” word.

Another possible advantage is that, according to the gospel of Hollywood, being engaged to some nice but basically bland person exponentially raises your chances of meeting your soulmate. Perhaps that also works with being engaged to some nice but basically bland imaginary person.

best of... ?

trilliann — 2005-12-23T02:12:23-05:00

In case you haven't already heard, MsDania and callmeroger are hosting a "best of mindsay 2005" event.

You're supposed to go vote on your favorite blog post this year in 30 (thirty!!!) different subjects. Personally, for several topics, I immediately thought of a name, but pinning it down to one single post by that person is tough. And very time consuming.

I suspect that the vast majority of nominated posts will be from the last couple months of the year. Much like movies expected to be nominated for awards are typically released at the end of the year, to get more votes by being more recently memorable.

You can even vote for yourself- which could be handy, as presumably you would remember your posts far better than anyone else- but just feels liking cheating and self aggandizement to me. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I can think of a few more general subjects I would've liked to have seen.

Like "Best battle between mindsayers"

"Most misunderstood post"

"The person I suspect of having the most different usernames, and interacting with themself to gain attention"

"Most overrated mindsayer"

"Most easily offended"

"Most likely to end up in an insane asylum"

"Most likely to actually already be posting from an insane asylum."

Anyhow, should be interesting. Vote early, vote often.

wondering

trilliann — 2005-12-28T05:12:18-05:00

So I'm looking thru the nominees for "Best of Mindsay", and I noticed a certain trend. About 70% of the votes were people voting for themself. (Wonder how many more may have been people voting for themself under another screenname?)

Of course, it was made clear that voting for yourself was allowed.

Frankly, I'm just jealous of that kind of self confidence. To look at what thousands of other people are writing and proclaim "What I wrote is the best."

I was also surprised at how many votes were not for original material, but for things people copied from email forwards- jokes, poems, stories. (Of course, I also voted for some unoriginal material, if I liked the way it was presented.)

And (being the kind of person who actually reads all the rules and disclaimers on things like sweepstakes, downloads, fast food containers…) I’m still curious about the details. So, in the first round, people nominated entries. Precious few entries got more than one vote. Now, all of those entries have been condensed to no more than three to choose between.

For instance- in category of Best Poetry, there were 17 nominations. Not a single one of these got more than one nomination. Now there are three choices to vote on. I found two of these stunningly underwhelming, the third was ok. (But, then, I’m not the biggest fan of poetry. Blasphemy coming from the mouth of a chick, I know.)

Anyhow, that’s pretty much the most interesting thing I’ve got to think about today.

lethargic

trilliann — 2005-12-28T05:12:17-05:00

leth·ar·gy ( P ) Pronunciation Key (l th r-j )
n. pl. leth·ar·gies

A state of sluggishness, inactivity, and apathy.
A state of unconsciousness resembling deep sleep.

I am being spectacularly unproductive at work today. At least 50 crises swirling about me, and I can’t seem to focus on (or care about) any of ‘em.

As my mind wanders like a turtle lost in a sandstorm, the calculator in my head started buzzing. Which might be a good thing if I worked in, say, accounting.

Ok, so Mindsay recently announced the landmark of 100,000 members, right?

Rough estimate, figure a lot of those just signed up to read somebody else's blog, many posted once or twice and got bored- let's conservatively figure only 20% are actually active bloggers.

If those 20,000 active bloggers averaged just two posts per week (realizing that some post 20 times a day, some less than once a month) that's something like 2,080,000 entries in a year.

(I should really get out a calculator to check my math at this point, but I'm feeling lazy.)

Figuring 80% of what's written is garbage, that leaves 416,000 entries to consider for "best of.

No wonder hardly any entries got more than one vote.

People of the Week

trilliann — 2005-12-29T10:12:09-05:00

In the rampant spirit of voting for favorites which starts out as a great idea and somehow ends up making everyone else feel left out, or not good enough, I am going to nominate my favorite People of the Week.

Before you accuse me of staging a popularity contest, let me clarify that point immediately. Of course it's a popularity contest. They did very nice things for me this week, and all of the voices in my head are unified (for once) to thank them.

Since this blog is not a democracy (more of a trillocracy) there will be no voting allowed. Complain all you want, the PTB have spoken.

Therefore, in recognition of promoting a sense of joy and blowing away the remnants of yesterday's lethargy, I hereby declare

*drumroll, please*

tootboy , snuggs , and pixelpyro to be my Persons of the Week!

This trilogy of wonderful people have 1) helped me develop a whole new level of love for Macca. 2)Sent a hysterical yet touching card that the post office apparently enjoyed, since they held on to it for about two weeks, and 3) Volunteered as my faux-ancee, and sent a lovely fauxgagement present.

bumper sticker

trilliann — 2005-12-30T02:12:02-05:00

Stuck in traffic yesterday, behind a car with a bumper sticker that read

"Still pissed at Yoko."

Tried to run 'em off the road to ask where they bought it, but they got away.

Have I mentioned that I'm a bumper sticker junkie? Only one actually on my car, though.

debate

trilliann — 2005-12-30T02:12:14-05:00

I have a longstanding self imposed rule. I always stay home on New Years Eve.

Seven of my friends and family members have been killed in auto accidents. Four were by drunk or otherwise impaired drivers. There are more impaired drivers on the roads at certain times, and my healthy respect for the sanctity of life and instinct of self preservation keeps me home on those times.

On the other hand, my social calendar is somewhat less than impressive. Once you spend a few years being too sick to go anywhere- or, if you do go, you end up either falling asleep in the corner or leaving really early- eventually the invites slow down.

Way down.

I used to love to dance. Both sets of my Grandparents won dance competitions when they were young, and they danced with us from the time we were babies- so I was into the jitterbug, swing and salsa way before it was trendy. And I see no reason to stop enjoying it now that it isn’t so trendy anymore. In recent years, I’ve taken up chair dancing, because spinning across the floor in the arms of my beloved office chair requires so much less energy. Looks a bit odd, but that’s never bothered me before.

The conflict comes in the form of an invitation for a party tomorrow night…. With a forties theme.

Not that I would be doing any dancing myself, seeing as how I just got rid of the crutches and finally this week graduated from a ginormous air cast, down to a slightly less unattractive brace. (I can wear shoes that match now! Yay!)

But I would love to just sit back and watch… at least be a part of it a little. It’s a step away from the pills and surgery and tests and worry, and back towards life, friends, fun.

Besides, I have the world’s cutest shoes to wear.

So, the debate remains. Are rules- even self imposed- made to be broken? If I do go out, will I be handicapped by fear, by memories of my friends- each driving along in their own world, suddenly wrapped in broken glass and twisted metal?

Or do I stay home, watch “Swing Kids” for the b’zillionth time, countdown with the folks on the tube, and go to bed?

Whatever choice you make for your own plans, dear friends, please choose to be responsible. Don’t drive while impaired. Wear your seatbelt. Be alert to those around you who may not be so wise. Arrive alive.

no subject

trilliann — 2006-01-04T02:01:15-05:00

In case you were wondering, I did go to the party Saturday. The band was fantastic, the Cute Shoes were much admired, and no one seemed to notice when I slipped out the back early to get home before the drunks hit the roads.

cue my theme song

trilliann — 2006-01-04T02:01:02-05:00

So, I finally got around to figuring out how to convert mp3’s to ringtones and send them to my phone. That’s right, now I can annoy people by having tinny music come blasting out of my purse at odd moments!

While I’m at it, I thought I might as well assign different songs to different friends, so I don’t have to be bothered with actually looking at the caller id to decide if I feel like answering or not. Which got me to pondering.

1)If your life had a theme song, what would it be?

2)If you could pick a song to represent what you wish your life was like, what would that be?

remember the dream

trilliann — 2006-01-16T11:01:34-05:00

It is rare indeed for one person, by sheer willpower and force of personality, to be able to change the world. To build on the foundation laid by many, to build it stronger, and give hope to millions.

To share your dream, and have it taken up as a rallying cry.

And then to die a martyr’s death, and not see that dream begin to come to its fruition.

If Dr Martin Luther King, Jr were alive today, how would he feel to know that almost every town across his home state now has a prominent street named after him?

To know that his birthday is now a federal holiday?

Would it gladden his heart to see a younger generation where race is less of an issue than ever before?

Or would he concentrate on the cases where prejudice refuses to die?

Would he be proud of the many political leaders who are black? His hometown of Atlanta is currently under the management of its fourth black Mayor.

Or would he simply sigh to see how often these same leaders “play the race card” when things don’t go their way?

I hope that he would be proud of the progress made. And then roll up his sleeves, and continue building a road to a brighter tomorrow.

The complete “I Have a Dream” speech can be found here.

Based on that inspiration, I’m planning over the next week or so to discuss the idea of heritage- starting with my own, of course. I hope you’ll join in.

long and boring

trilliann — 2006-01-17T01:01:54-05:00

Amazingly enough, my health seems to be holding pretty steady thru all of this. Normally stress makes the bugs go wild. Granted, I haven’t been sleeping well (a lot, but not well.) Aches and pains are a bit worse than what has been usual, but nowhere near the level I was at even a few months ago. Lack of focus is understandable due to bring distracted with worry and lack of sleep. Fatigue is understandable due to all of the above. None of the multitudinous bizarro symptoms have popped back up lately. Even the peripheral numbness has been better. My sense of humor appears to have been misplaced, but I think it’ll probably show up again sometime.

I was a good girl and wore the stupid foot brace as long as my Dr told me to, and did my exercises, and it seems to be about 97% better. No limp, and it only aches after a really long day of driving. Yay! Of course, I’m also on various prescription pain relievers, which may just possibly be a factor.

The heart palpitations have been pretty severe, but this, I discovered, may be because my Doctor and Pharmacist failed to warn me of a “potentially major” interaction between two of my meds. Also several moderate and mild interactions, apparently several of my meds should not be taken together- well, thank goodness for the drug interaction checker at drugstore.com. This is a tremendously handy tool. It tells me that not only should I not take most any of my meds at the same time, they also should not be taken in conjunction with food, caffeine, milk, alcohol, or phytic acid. (What the…?)

I also discovered that the main ingredient in Flonase (nasal allergies) and Advair (asthma) are the same. Odd, that.

So, anyway, I’m taking this as a very good sign. My health has plateaued for a while now- not getting worse, but not getting better, either. If it stays plateaued with all of this stress, then maybe this is my new normal.

It’s difficult to know what to expect, there are so many schools of thought with late stage Lyme disease. Some medical experts feel that you can force it to go into remission, but that most likely the bugs will come out of hibernation again. There’s a somewhat newer school of thought that perhaps you can indeed exterminate the pesky critters, and be left with “Post-Lyme Syndrome”- basically, the bugs are gone, but the neurotoxins they released are here to stay.

Of course, there are also theories on how to rid yourself of this. Theories which are expensive and unproven.

My freaky homeopath believes nanobacteria are to blame. The treatment he suggests is even more expensive, less proven, and, frankly, odd.

What makes sense to me is that even if the bugs get gone, the damage they’ve done remains. My heart muscle is weakened and will take time to regenerate. Same with (what’s left of) my brain. Therefore, they both need exercise. Blech. But I am determined to work at it. I’m down to only 14 prescriptions now, but I’d really like that number to be lower. Like, say, none.

Yeah, none would be nice.

only fair, really

trilliann — 2006-01-19T11:01:34-05:00

brilliant

trilliann — 2006-01-19T11:01:27-05:00

And why, exactly, hasn't anyone marketed this brilliance yet?

My mouse already has "Compaq" blazoned across it. It's not that far to "Compact."

crazy people + fire = bad idea

trilliann — 2006-01-23T12:01:21-05:00

On this bleak Monday morning, as I stumbled in to the kitchen at work for my first cuppa, it vaguely registered in my sleep starved brain that something was different. I went to the counter to pick my poison, and noticed the large floral arrangement that usually is displayed on top of the refrigerator was now on the counter. Interesting.

"That’s not it." mumbled the quiet voice in my head, as she wiped sleep from her eyes.

Stumbling over to doctor it up with cream and sugar, I tried to figure out what else was different.

"Good morning!"

"Mornin’ " I reply, glancing around to see who else has come in.

Nobody there.

And it was way to perky to be one of my voices. Unless they already had some coffee they didn't tell me about.

"How are you?"

"Um, I'm fine, thanks... and you?"

Finally, I locate the source of the Voice. There is a man. Standing. On top. Of the refrigerator.

Ok, so our decorator has taken some odd turns before, but there are limits...

"So, erm, how's the view up there?"

Big laugh, as he casually hops off the fridge and down to the counter, showing no respect at all for the marble countertops. As he starts fiddling with the vent hood over the range, he asks "How was your weekend?"

"Good. And you?" Slowly back towards the door. Do not make sudden movements in the presence of strange crazy people. (Familiar crazy people are another matter entirely.)

"Fantastic!" Now he hops off the counter to the floor, hardly even bending his knees. I swear he bounced at least twice. Just as I'm about to make good my escape, he flicks on all four burners of the gas range to full flame. He sighs as he states "I don't think anyone ever uses these except me."

"Well, no, we don't do much cooking here..." do not leave the crazy person alone with fire..." erm, is there anything I can help you with?"

Like maybe I could call the police and see if they're looking for you?

"No, I'm almost done here. It's kind of a shame, really, that ya'll went and installed industrial grade appliances when nobody uses them, but we still have to come inspect them every year."

A small bell in the recesses of my memory begins to ring. Inspections. Fire department regulations. Right. Maybe we don't need to call 911 after all...

Still not sure why he was standing on top of the fridge, though.

I love deadlines. Woosh.

trilliann — 2006-01-25T09:01:45-05:00

Today is the deadline for entries for the mindsay yearbook06 !

Head over there to check out the rules, and enter every category.

Photography - Still Life,
Photography - People,
Photoshop,
Haiku - Free Form,
Haiku - Television,
50 Word essay - fiction,
50 Word essay - Prompted,
Limerick - band or music genre,
Limmerick-free
Poetry - Historical Figure's point of view

I know that you're all incredibly talented, here's a chance to see your work in print. All entries are to be emailed to the yearbook staff, so when the top picks are posted for voting, it will be completely anonymous- voting by the quality of the work, not because you like a person. (or don't) Obviously, all entries must be original and previously unpublished.

Which is understandable but too bad, because it means I can't enter my favorite people photo, Naked Cowboy. Dangit.

Plus, you could win an Ipod! Or, if you already have one, you could win an Ipod and give it to me! Whoohoo!

All the details are at yearbook06

another midnight phone call

trilliann — 2006-01-28T10:01:50-05:00

When you were born, your family was already chosen for you. For better or worse, this is who you’re stuck with.

As you grow up, an incredible thing happens. You begin to be able to chose whom you would like to associate with. At first, your circle of people to choose from may be somewhat narrow- classmates, or the kids down the street. Gradually, the circle widens. You have choices, options. You can choose to associate only with people who look like you, or only with people of the same spiritual beliefs.

Or, you can seek out people with similar values, likes and dislikes. People different enough to help you to grow in your world view, similar enough to understand yours.

Thus do we change the definition of family, from genetic designation to matter of the heart.

I received a call late last night from one of my “chosen family” members. They’re about a decade older than me- actually, I fall right between their ages and their kids’ ages.

The sound of a phone ringing late at night has become the most horrible sound on earth.

Their 17 year old son, Chandler, was in a horrible auto accident last night. They live in Hilton Head Island, so Lifeflight came and airlifted him to the medical center in Savannah.

The prognosis does not look good. He has severe swelling in the brain, injuries to the brain stem. The Doctors aren’t giving them much hope at all.

Even in the very unlikely chance that he lives, he will never be the same. The same witty, loving, laid back boy we love.

By the end of the brief phone call, I was already throwing things in my bag to go. But they asked me not to come. The ICU waiting room is small, and limited to immediate family members. Genetic family members.

I would be spending my time stuck in a hotel room far from home, no better able to offer support than I am here.

And so my life is on hold. If he takes a turn either way- better, and they move him to a regular room- or if this is the end of his journey- I will be there in a few hours.

Because that’s what family does.

no subject

trilliann — 2006-01-29T04:01:34-05:00

I can’t sleep.

I hate nighttime when I can’t sleep. It has a completely different personality from when I simply don’t want to sleep. If I choose to be wakeful, the darkness is velvet softly surrounding me, the stars bright beacons of far off worlds only half dreamed of.

But a white night- to be troubled and unable to sleep- is torture like none other. The darkness is ominous. Who knows what beasties lurk just out of sight? The stars are reduced to cold pinpoints of light, uncaring eyes that watch and judge. No amount of electric light can drive away this darkness.

I’m overwhelmed by memories of Chandler. The sweet little boy I loved.

When he was little he had a funny way of talking. People said he sounded like a young Jack Nicholson, with his deep little boy voice, his dry delivery, his drawl on certain syllables. He always called his parents by their first names. I remember once, when he was about five, and his sister irritated him while we were riding on a long car trip.

He informed his father “Wade, you need to pull over.”

“Why is that, Chandler?”

“You need to spank Portia. She’s buggin me.”

Always self sufficient. Their mother was plagued with horrible migraines. While the two girls would go hungry or finally interrupt Mommy while she tried to rest in a dark room, little man took care of himself. The only foods he could reach that didn’t have to be cooked were in the door of the fridge. So he would get the bread and make a sandwich of condiments. Ketchup, mustard, olives, pickles, maybe a little ranch dressing.

When Karla caught on, she started making sure there were always healthy snacks and ready made items at his level. But he was used to his door shelf meals, and continued with them.

So she started storing clean fresh fruits in the door, and putting the condiments a bit higher. He was just as happy either way.

When I would walk in the door, he would hurl himself at my knees, wrapping his arms around me so I couldn’t walk, and stare up at me. “Trill, I just love you so much!”

The wonderful young man he was becoming. He didn’t go thru the obnoxious phase most teenagers seem to think is required. He was becoming a bit more withdrawn, naturally wanting to associate with people in his own age range. I asked him why he wasn’t coming to dinner with us one night when I was visiting them a few months ago.

In his straightforward manner he replied “Look, I’m a teenager. Give me a couple years, ok?”

We all laughed, and I agreed to that bargain. He left, I thought to go visit with his friends. Ten minutes later he came out of his room, all neat and clean and asked “So, when are we leaving? I’m starving!”

The doctors say that the damage is too severe. His brain is no longer communicating with his body, and his organs are starting to fail. Something like that, I’m a bit blurry on the details.

They expect they’ll be removing life support some time tomorrow… well, today… or the next day.

Thank you for all of your love and prayers and words of support. It helps so much to have this outlet.

no subject

trilliann — 2006-02-02T11:02:52-05:00

Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, for your prayers and kind words over the last week.

Our sweet Chandler died yesterday.

I'm on my way to Hilton Head, I expect I'll be back some time Tuesday.

last words

trilliann — 2006-02-05T01:02:52-05:00

The services yesterday were beautiful. I'll talk more later, I'm only prepared to sit here in the hotel lobby and take advantage of the free wireless access for so long. And we're meeting the family for lunch in a few minutes.

Last words are very important. In the case of famous people, they are often preserved for posterity. Well thought out, cryptic, or just odd, they are rarely forgotten.

As Chandler was getting ready to leave the house last week, his Mom was thinking about him. How he managed to get stellar grades, and still be popular- the person everyone liked. Class clown and top of the class, all in one. How he lived his life with spiritual grounding, taking God's viewpoint into consideration before every descision. How he managed to do all this and still maintain a good after school job, as well.

She stopped him as he was going out the door and said "Honey, I just want you to know. I am so proud of you."

He gave his famous crooked grin and replied "Ok."

Ten minutes later she got the call that he had been in a wreck, and airflight was on its way.

They don't know what caused the accident. A security guard in the neighborhood saw him, said he was doing 35, the speed limit, and all of a sudden the car was wrapped around a tree. Inexperienced driver, maybe he hit the curve and overcorrected, or swerved to miss an animal. That low speed, to cause this kind of damage, is incredible.

Here's a link to a local newspaper article, with a picture of the car. Not for the faint of heart.

Dear friends, drive safely. And always, always remember to tell you loved ones how you feel.

obituary

logical?

trilliann — 2006-02-07T01:02:10-05:00

Next "logical" step in the Muhammed political cartoons controversy?

sunrise

trilliann — 2006-02-08T10:02:26-05:00

One of the prime advantages of the west coast versus the east coast is that it's much easier to stay up to watch the sunset over the ocean, than it is to drag yourself out of bed and down to the water to watch the sunrise over the ocean, which it always chooses to perform at some ungodly early hour, when any self respecting light source would be keeping itself politely dim.

Long sentence. Nevermind, enjoy the pretty pictures.

There is something incredibly healing about the ocean. Combined with the sunrise, symbol of rebirth and new beginnings... food for the soul.

if I... will you...

trilliann — 2006-02-10T03:02:18-05:00

Questions of the Week on WTF radio reminded me of a family story I should share, to give you an example of how weird my family is.

I know, everyone’s family is weird. Mine is weird in very, very different ways.

My Grandparents had been married for about 30 years, to all appearances they were reasonably happy together. Their two daughters had both recently married, their son had moved out, so for the first time since the first year they were married, it was just the two of them.

They had never owned a dishwasher, and my grandmother had always thought they must be a marvelous invention. One day, a friend called to tell her that they were moving, and she could have their dishwasher if someone would come get it. But, they also told her that it had to be out of the house pronto, or the new owners would keep it.

She can hardly wait until my Grandfather gets home, as soon as he walked in the door she started excitedly telling him the wonderful news. Could they go get it as soon as they finished the lovely dinner she had just prepared and had waiting on the table for him? (After, of course, working a longer shift at her office job than he had at his.)

“No.” he said. No explanation.

At first she thought he was joking. Or maybe he was just tired- it was a Friday, they could go first thing Saturday?

No.

She could call their son to come help?

No.

Why not?

No comment.

She dropped the subject for a while, then after dinner tentatively asked again.

He replied “Look, if I go get that %#@&%# dishwasher for you, will you give me a divorce?”

Stunned, she replied “Oh…. um.... ok.”

So, she got her dishwasher, he got his divorce and moved in with the chick down the street half his age.

Amazingly enough, they’re on pretty friendly terms now. She didn’t even ask for alimony at the time, but he’s always helped her out at random times, paying to have her car fixed, sending a couple hundred bucks now and then, etc.

And they all lived oddly ever after.

assorted wandering

trilliann — 2006-02-11T07:02:06-05:00

Not Egypt or even Las Vegas, just a couple more Hilton Head pics.

Odd roofline on the neighboring hotel, like twin pyramids. Not remotely exotic at any other angle.

By the by, should you ever find yourself in need of a hotel room in HHI, I very highly recommend using Priceline.I've never had to stay at a hotel there, always stayed with my friends before.

I couldn't even find a cheap hotel for less than 90 bucks, thought I'd give Priceline a whirl. In the "name your own price" section, you click a choice of level- 1 star, 2 star, etc- top is "Resort."

Too tempting.

And, lo and behold, they actually accepted my offer of $55 a night - at the Hilton Oceanfront Resort. Considering the rack rate is $400 a night, I was rather impressed. Huge rooms, two heated pools and jacuzzis right on the wide, beautiful beach, excellent service, private balcony... not bad. I rather think I could get used to this.

For those of you not familiar with Hilton Head, it's an interesting place. Very exclusive, almost no public beaches. One must either live there or be a guest of a resort in order to dip your toes in the sand. Lovely old oak trees mixed with the palms. Very strict zoning laws dedicated to preserving the natural state of the area. Lovely bike paths and walking trails all over.

Of course, all of this "wilderness" is highly manicured. Rather like one huge golf course, actually.Only with more trees and a really big sandtrap.

One result of the zoning laws is that all building on the whole island are either taupe, tan, or sand colored. Businesses can't have signs in an other colors, either, and signs must be wooden and limited to about 2' x 3'. Therefore, if you don't live there, you'll probably never find anything, and may as well either bring your own food or go home now.

McDonalds looks like Starbucks looks like the high school looks like Sax 5th Ave looks like Burger King looks like the BP station.

Very peaceful, and at the same time rather disorienting. It all blends together into one long neutral colored blur.

Only about 45 minutes from Savannah, though, which has enough curliques and, erm, local color to spare.

drinking game

trilliann — 2006-02-12T08:02:10-05:00

Oh, sure. Everybody loves Ty Pennington.

But, secretly, (ok, secretly previous to right now) the object of my affection is Preston Sharp.

Tall dark and dreamy, with the kindest heart. Wields a hammer, writes songs and childrens books, and literally sweeps the new homeowner (she has MS) off her feet and carry her to her front door.

But, seriously?

On tonight's episode, you could have had an excellent drinking game of "Every time tears start rolling down Preston's cheeks, drink a shot."

Of course, you would've been unconscious halfway thru the show and missed the big reveal.

counting down

trilliann — 2006-02-13T09:02:45-05:00

not exactly my point

trilliann — 2006-02-14T01:02:21-05:00

“I don’t celebrate St Valentines Day”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m neither Catholic nor an ancient roman pagan celebrant of Lupercalia.”

“Hunh?”

“Valentines as we know it has basically grown from a variety of ancient customs. Officially a Catholic saints day in honor of St Valentine, although no one is entirely certain which St Valentine to attribute it to. There are at least three martyred ‘Saints’ named Valentine or something similar, all from around the third century A.D., and the feast day has been associated with each of them.

Most well known is the Roman Valentine- historical records confirm that he was tortured before being beaten with clubs and eventually beheaded, but there’s no clear account of why.

Stories that arose in later years claimed that he was arrested and executed because he aided Christians at that time, who were persecuted by the Roman government, even though he was not Christian himself until a deathbed conversion. He is supposed to have sent letters from prison before his gory end, alternately to his friends or to the young daughter of the jailer, requesting that they “remember your Valentine.”

A more popular but just as unsubstantiated legend claims that Emperor Claudius banned all marriages, believing that single men made better soldiers than married men. A priest named Valentine secretly married young couples, and was eventually executed for his “crimes.”

Actually, the roots of the festival go back much further. When Rome decided to make Christianity the official religion, they had a hard time getting the people to give up their ancient festivals. So many of the most popular were spiffed up and re-released, now claimed as Christian festivities rather than the ancient pagan practices they actually were. For example, the date of VD was actually the ancient Lupercalia, celebrating the half man half goat Faunas. Basically, it was a fertility ritual involving young men running around with bloody goatskin whips, striking women and crops. This was supposed to ensure the fertility of each.

Also closely related to the Greek fertility god Pan- wild and unpredictable- we derive the word “panic” from his name. Interestingly, also half man half goat. Known for being, erm, easily distracted- he had affairs with most all of the contemporary nymphs and goddesses. Not exactly a grand example of true love and faithfulness.

Somehow, the idea of pagan fertility rites, festivals to a philandering half goat demi-god, or a guy being beaten to death just don’t equal hearts and flowers for me.

Valentines as we know it now is simply another mass-marketed excuse for commercial exploitation, inspiring unoriginal expressions of affection.”

“Oh, ok. So what you’re saying is, you’re bitter because you’re single, right?

Hey, Q100 is hosting a Bitter Ball for singles- you should go!”

when you care enough to send the very best

trilliann — 2006-02-14T03:02:10-05:00

for hester , who suggested that my previous post might be aimed at diminishing the profits of Hallmark.

I designed these lovely Valentine cards for Hallmark to use, free of charge.

See, this one has cute little cherubs and everything

scrambling on the bandwagon

trilliann — 2006-02-15T10:02:54-05:00

Here's the chance to find out what you really think of me.

Click here to go to my Johari Window. Pick the five or six words that you feel best describe me, then see how your answers compare to my own, as well as others.

I really intrigued to see the results, so please take a minute to try it.

Actually, I don't guess it necessarily tells me what you really think of me, because pretty much all of the choices are positive attributes. If I wanted completely honest responses, I would also post a Nohari Window.

But I didn't.

always two there are...

trilliann — 2006-02-20T09:02:01-05:00

My new apprentice begins training today.

Am I the only one who finds it a bit odd that I have to train the person who’s taking my job?

Ah, well. Perhaps if my padawan does well, I’ll be promoted to the council. Or at least they’ll find another job for me here.

I have a bad feeling about this.

In the meantime, I have one month to train her, because nobody else has a clue of what all this job entails. With her shadowing my every move, I probably won’t be around here much during the day for a while- just not as much fun when someone is looking over your shoulder.

peace and quiet

trilliann — 2006-02-24T02:02:50-05:00

Well, training has been.... interesting.

My Cable chose this week to go ballistic, and since I have cable modem and VOIP phone, I have had no television, internet, or phone at home this week. I've called the cable company, they swore they were coming to fix it, but nada.

Actually, it's been rather peaceful.

But, between having the apprentice glued to my side all week and having no access at home, I currently have something like 80 million unread items in my inbox.

Yearbook '06 ; Haiku - Television

trilliann — 2006-02-24T05:02:48-05:00

One of the categories on the now defunct yearbook06 was Haiku- Television. Write a haiku related to one of your favorite television shows.

We all know that poetry, unfortunately, is definitely not my forte. I had fun with this assignment, though, and decided to inflict...erm, I mean, share some of these with you.

I have no idea which one I entered, so here's a couple of my "Lost" haiku.

souls tossed on rocky shores

saved, savior? the island knows.

not all Lockes have keys.

four eight fifteen six

teen twenty three fourty two

good? evil? the island knows.

bright sun and tan bods

monster, numbers, and hatches

Lost with Sawyer? Please!

throwing in the towel

trilliann — 2006-02-24T06:02:04-05:00

20 million down, 60 to go.

See ya'll Monday.

Be good-ish.

(anybody want to volunteer to record the olympic figure skating and/or curling for me?

No?

Fine. I'll live.

Maybe.)

explanation

trilliann — 2006-02-27T04:02:10-05:00

I could’ve sworn I had explained this already, but apparently I would have been perjuring myself if I had so sworn.

Here’s the short-ish version of the situation I find myself in.

When I started working here, I was hired as a temp. After about a year and a half of “temping” for various departments- about 4 days a week- I thought they were going to let me go. Instead, they finally gave in and hired me as an hourly (not salaried, thus no benefits) worker.

Two years later (give or take) they “restructured” that department. Again, I thought it was the end of the road. Again, they offered me a different position.

Just a few months at that job, then they fired my boss, and the guy they brought in to replace him brought his own team, which left me again without a job- except another position was created, which I gladly accepted.

Another upheaval, adrift again, but this time was even better- this time I had two different departments competing for me!

So, here I am, at my sixth job in six years, but my work address hasn’t changed.

I know that they love me.

Unfortunately, my health does not allow me to work a full time schedule, and they’ve just never really understood the whole concept of part-time. So, even though I was covering my current job spectacularly, getting more done in 30 hours a week then most people do in 40, they just didn’t like not having me at their beck and call at all times. So they decided to replace me with a full time regular employee. Which costs the company more for the same results.

So they hired someone, the person formerly known as “Freaky Coworker.”

Thankfully, after 4 months she abruptly quit. (And there was much rejoicing throughout the kingdom.)

And I was back to my former job. The search for a new me began anew.

Finally, they found a candidate they liked.

So, now I am once again training someone to take over my job, which I find a very strange and somewhat uncomfortable situation.

It also shows the degree of trust that they have in me, that they would keep me on to train someone. Well, that and nobody else understands what the heck I do.

In fact, I still have the company checkbook. “Your days here are numbered. Yeah, sure, keep the checkbook.”

I have a month to train her in the intricacies of this very complicated job, then I’m back to temp work status. I know they have projects to keep me busy for a while, my boss has promised that he’ll try to give me at least two months notice before they cut me loose.

If I were able to work full time, all of this wouldn’t even be an issue.

Because it is an issue, I’m currently looking at other departments with big puppy dog eyes, hoping someone will adopt me. Because despite it all I really love this company, and they will have to drag me kicking and screaming out the door to ever make me leave.

Whatever happens, it’s been a fun ride, and I’ve gained some great experience and contacts in the industry.

whoohooo!!

trilliann — 2006-02-27T04:02:56-05:00

On a brighter note-

1) Hopefully when I get home tonight my cable will be fixed, and I will once again have tv, internet, and phone service!

2) In 24 days I will be on my way to a most expenses paid trip to Paris and Rome!

Can I get a WHOOHOOOO!!!!! ?

pure brilliance

trilliann — 2006-03-01T10:03:01-05:00

What a perfect way to start the day.

I’m sitting in brutal traffic, running late for a scheduled 8 am meeting. I use the time sitting with the car in park to touch up my makeup, until I fumble the lipstick. Squish, Colorstay Rosewood in a schmear down the front of my khackis. Ok, deep breaths, I can deal with this… find a napkin in the glove box, pour a little water on it, spill a lot of water all over everything.

And as I’m madly wiping at the water and the lipstick, I notice something else. A funny little seam running down the side of my sweater.

I have my shirt on inside out. And I might could hope no one would notice the inside out shirt, but it’s got all this pretty embroidery on it. Have you ever looked at the under side of embroidery? Little strings stickin every which way.

Lipstick on my slacks.

Shirt on inside out.

And I’m late for an important meeting.

And the meeting room is right by the front door, and there is no way I can sneak past and run to the restroom to get presentable.

May I just say, #@$@#^$%&%(*&)*^^*Y%$&%$#%&$*^%(&^(&^$&*^$% !!!

Fortunately, I have a coat in the trunk. Unfortunately (and I never would have thought I would call this unfortunate) it’s 70 degrees today.

Pull the coat on, button from neck to knees, and run in to the meeting. Effusive apologies.

“Why don’t you take off your coat and stay awhile?”

Nervous laughter. “Oh, I’m fine, thanks. I’m running a bit cold today.”

“Well, ok then. Are you ready to give your presentation?”

Check to make sure the coat is securely tied and buttoned, take a deep breath, and as sweat begins to roll down my back, stand and say

“Of course!”

fighting fires

trilliann — 2006-03-04T05:03:10-05:00

I made a grown man cry. Cry like a little girl. And not a little wimpy man, either- oh, no. This was a big, brawny fireman.

Just, you know, to top off a smashing day.

Things started out well enough. I was on a mission to get a building permit, and for this municipality I had to get seven- count ‘em, seven- departments to sign off on the building plans.

Department number 4 was the Fire Marshal’s office.

So I’m having a nice sit-down with this tall 200 pounds of pure muscle, explaining the plans and talking and joking and maybe flirting just a teensy bit and thinking of how much I’m going to miss this job and absolutely determined that I will get this permit today, when he asks me “Hey, ABC Homes- there’s a gentleman that works for you that I used to know, we used to go to the same church. I can’t think of his name, it started with a G… guy in his 70’s, always smiling.”

“Mr Gibbs?”

“That’s him! How is he?”

“Well, actually, he passed away, about a year ago.”

And not merely his whole face, but his whole body just crumpled.

I suppose I could have given him the news a bit more gently, but, well, if he didn’t even know the man’s name I just didn’t think he’d take it quite so hard.

You know how helpless men get around a crying woman?

I think I finally know what that feels like. Not pleasant.

I can’t exactly hug the guy, I’ve only known him for ten minutes. But oh lord, he just looks so heartbroken.

Just tear my heart out, stomp on it a while, then feed it to the blender.

So I gave him the details of Mr Gibbs’ death as gently as I could, and shared a few of my favorite Mr G stories. (By the by, Mr G was actually 83 and hadn’t been in the greatest health for years, so it shouldn’t have been a total shock, one might think.)

He regained his composure a bit, and we went back to reviewing the plans. He got quiet again, and I look up to find him looking at me like I’m the monster that ate his puppy.

And the face just crumples again, and the salty tears roll.

Seriously. I’m all for sensitivity, but is this a man you want to call in a crisis?

“Your house is on fire? There are people trapped inside? Oh, no! Hang on, I’ll be there as soon as I find a pack of tissues.”

Anywho, I did finally get plan approval and my permits were issued.

And the next time we need to consult with them, the new chick can handle it, with my blessings.

the birds

trilliann — 2006-03-06T01:03:14-05:00

Hitchcock tried to warn us.

And after being mauled by the pigeons in Venice’s Piazza San Marco, goosed by the geese in Edinburgh, dive bombed (and my hat stolen) by the lorikeets at Busch Gardens, knocked over by a running emu at a petting zoo, and generally shat upon by other winged wonders, you might think that I would have begun to have a clue. That maybe, just maybe, I would begin to suspect that perhaps birds just don’t like me quite as much as I like them.

But I, apparently, am a slow learner.

And so another chapter of the great Avian Book of Kill Trill begins.

Scene: A deserted beach. The sun is just beginning to push it’s sleepy head over the horizon, and preside over another gorgeous day. A lone female makes her way towards the beach.

At the waterfront, the gulls begin whispering to each other, shielding their words by tucking beaks under wings.

As the girl comes closer, they all immediately go into “sweet and innocent mode.”

Trill "Aw, look how sweet and innocent! That one's still sleeping."

Yet, even in her cheerfully unaware state, she begins to feel a faint sense of foreboding in the air... as if something is not quite right...

"Oh, look!" she exclaims"I have a leftover dinner roll in my pocket. Birdies want some bread crumbs?"

She begins crumbling the bread and throws out a handful.

Raucous calls pierce the dawn stillness, and she quickly finds herself surrounded by 500 very demanding new best friends.

Reaching deep in her pocket for the last few crumbs, she says “Sorry guys, that’s the last of the bread.”

The last thing she remembers is hundreds of sharp little beaks racing towards her as a high pitched squawk seemed to say “that’s ok… we’re ready for MEAT!”

price of progress?

trilliann — 2006-03-10T10:03:15-05:00

According to the local planning commission, there are plans in the works to expand I-75 north of Atlanta - the main highway leading to the northern suburbs and beyond- to 23 lanes.

Twenty-three lanes.

That's 388 feet across. Wider than the length of a football field.

Heaven help you if you're in the fast lane and realize you're almost out of gas, 'cause you're never gonna be able to merge across that many lanes.

The bottleneck where the proposed 23 lanes merges back down to 12- right at the perimeter of the city- should be interesting, too.

factoids

trilliann — 2006-03-11T05:03:24-05:00

I've been tagged (sneakily, by hypnagogic ) which means I'm supposed to share 6 things about me you may not know.

1) For a while I was proofreader for a very prolific author. I grew to hate his style of writing, eventually I just didn’t send back the proof copy of one of his books. I still have it. I also still have the urge to redline everything I read for spelling, grammatical, and factual errors.

Everything except what I write, of course.

2)I think peanut butter tastes best straight out of the jar.

3) In second grade I wrote and illustrated a book for a school arts fair. It failed to place. My teacher was so upset, thought it was so much better than the rest, that she smudged the label and put it on the truck with the winners.

It went on to win first place at the state competition.

4) I can not lie (or even bluff) convincingly to save my life. One reason why I’ve never been a big fan of poker.

5) When I was younger, I had a southern drawl so thick I could cut “the” into four syllables. Now it comes and goes, depending on who I’m talking to or how tired I am. I tend to unconsciously mirror the accent of the person I’m talking to.

6) I just joined mindsay one year ago this month, but I’ve had an online journal of sorts since 1998.

Ok, you're up. Who hasn't been tagged yet?

melting pot

trilliann — 2006-03-13T12:03:00-05:00

Met my family for dinner at my favorite little Italian restaurant. Seriously, the best Pasta Fazoule ever imagined.

The owner, Tony, came over to chat. If you saw Tony in a movie, you'd think they went a bit overboard with the stereotype. Heaviest Brooklyn-Italian accent I've ever heard. His kids are the first generation of his family born in the states. They moved to Georgia when the kids were little, so they speak with a really interesting conglomeration of accents- New York-Italian-Southern.

My Dad says "Hey, Tony, we're going to visit your homeland!"

Tony looked really puzzled at that, and excitedly asked "You're going to New York?"

the eyes have it

trilliann — 2006-03-14T11:03:24-05:00

*Edit- If you're reading this after 3/16, I had to change to a wider header picture to accomodate the aquarium pics in today's entry. The eyes will return in a day or two.*

People are attracted by different body parts. For me, it’s always been all about the eyes. It’s been said that eyes are windows to the soul, and it’s true that no matter how we try to school our expressions some glimpse of the truth comes thru.

I’ve been at a bit of a loss for how best to utilize my random header thingy lately. For now, the eyes have it. Hit refresh for a new picture and see how many you can identify. They’re all actors, so far, whom I feel have especially lovely eyes.

Then tell me, what feature do you find most appealing when you first meet someone? Be honest, I'm expecting at least one answer of "forearms", which still baffles me. ;)

can't keep my mind off of you

trilliann — 2006-03-16T12:03:23-05:00

Ding-dong. Somebody’s at the door.

Peek out the window- brown shorts, tan legs… it’s the UPS man! Hooray, it’s finally here! Tear open the door, grab the box and… oh. Just some camera accessories I ordered.

Where is my copy of Gus Openshaw’s Whale Killing Journal, dangit?! I know other “shipmates” have already received theirs, and I want mine NOW!

I’m sorry, Brown, don’t run…

Cripes. Scared the UPS man. Again.

It feels like the excitement I felt while I was first living Gus’ adventures vicariously. I’d log on to the computer and go straight his blog to see what adventures the crew was up to.

Ok, must think of other things. Off to work with me. I get to work, and there’s a big bus waiting by the front door. Oh, yeah, we have a field trip today! The company is taking all of us to the new Georgia Aquarium. I have no idea how this is supposed to relate to my job, but I’m not going to rock the boat. So to speak.

The Aquarium is magnificent- beautifully designed.

To your left when you first enter is a “touch-tank” with baby sharks and stingrays. “Just use two fingers to pet them” the guide says “and keep your hands to the top- their mouths are on bottom.”

Yeah, right. I intend to keep both of my hands, thankyouverymuch. Well, ok, maybe just with one finger…

The sharks feel slightly rubbery, the rays feel like what they look - portobello mushrooms with eyes and scary tails… wonder what they taste like… I’ll bet Duq could make ‘em taste good.

Guide pins me with a fierce look “We do not serve any seafood on these premises.”

“Then what did you feed the fish? I think you mean that you don’t serve any seafood to people.”

Yikes. Apparently guides don’t like comments as much as bloggers do. Moving on…

The aquariums showcase a variety of environments, all feel very natural. It feels as though you’re strolling along the floor of a river, lake, or ocean, looking at the life surrounding you.

I’m glad Gus isn’t here, because with his luck the glass would shatter and we’d all be bait.

Some very bizarre creatures lurk in these waters.

The beluga whales are the stars of the show here, having been rescued from an amusement park in Mexico. Personally, I think they’re darn ugly.

Too bad it wasn’t one of these comparatively little guys who had a grudge against Gus. They’d probably have been full off just his arm, they never would’ve eaten his wife and kid, too. Of course, they’re so small and the ocean is so huge, I don’t know if he’d ever have been able to track down the right one. The adventure could still be continuing…

Another touch tank, this one with sea urchins, anemones, and starfish. Another diabolical “guide” is stationed here. “Just lightly rest your finger on one of the sea urchins” he says “you’ll feel the spines move back and forth.”

Spines? Touch? Lured by the pretty colors, my hand completely of it’s own accord reaches out to try.

“Now feel an anemone- just place your finger in the tentacles gently”

Yeah, right. I may be gullible but I’m not stupid. I saw Finding Nemo, dude, I know those things sting. Do I look like a clownfish to you?!

Well, ok, my hand is already numb from the cold water…

I let a couple of my workmates be the guinea pigs, they said the tentacles are so frictionless that you can’t even feel them. They’re slowly swirling their fingers around, and the anemones aren’t even reacting. I gently placed one finger in an anemone and Oh! My! Goodness! Bunches of little tentacles zoom over to surround my finger with a slightly sticky pull. It’s hugging me! It loves me! I must have one! My heart grew three sizes right there.

The guide laughs “It must think you taste good!”

Wait a sec… it’s not hugging me? It’s tasting me? Ew! Give me my finger back, you creep!

Must’ve tasted like the shrimp from the last touch tank.

I tossed my heart thru a wash cycle and in the dryer, it shrunk right back down to normal no problem.

Moving on.

There’s a dark hall with a series of tank with small jellyfish. So mesmerizing, incredibly beautiful.

Finally, we get to an area with a moving sidewalk that takes you thru a 100 foot long glass (well, acrylic) tunnel thru a 6 million gallon tank. Real and created coral reefs, about 100,000 sea creatures, and a heckuva lot of salt. Gliding overhead is what I can only call a flock of rays, gliding with unearthly grace in elegant formations.

One Grouper big enough to feed Gus’ entire crew, with scraps left over for lil’ Bob. A hammerhead drifts by with a purposeful gleam in his beady little eyes.

For a moment, the light is blotted out. Looking up, I’m greeted with a vision that reminds me where I’ve seen an underwater glass tunnel like this before… in Jaws 3D.

Huge. Massive. Enormous. And polka-dotted?

The exploration ended with the obligatory gift shop. I suggested they should carry Gus’ Journal, but they were somewhat horrified by the title. I tried to explain, but I think they must all be Bluepeace members or something. They were somewhat more interested in his other fantastic book, Pirates of Pensacola.

Got home, checked for packages… still no book.

*sigh*

dropping names

trilliann — 2006-03-18T09:03:32-05:00

“The first time I met the Queen,” she remarked, ever so casually, “I was in my nightgown.”

That, my friends, is champion name dropping. I was intrigued.

“Really? How did that happen?”

“Well, my husband was in the military, at that time we were stationed in Scotland. I could see Glamis Castle from the kitchen window while I washed the dishes. I had just seen our daughter off to school, and our little dog wriggled out the door and went running after the bus. Me standing there in nothing but my nightgown and curlers, and he goes running down the middle of the road. My husband’s cowboy boots and macintosh were by the door, so I threw them on and went tearing off after the little monster. By the time I caught up with him, he was ‘cross the street and ‘round the corner, but there were no near neighbors so I wasn’t much bothered. Then I heard the cars coming, looked up and saw a line of sedans with flags flying. There was nowhere to hide, so I just stood there in my nightgown, giant boots and mac, hair in curlers, with a mad little dog wriggling in my arms, and waved.

As the first car went by, the Queen smiled and waved. The second car slowed, and the rear window rolled down. Princess Anne leaned out and said ‘Oh, you’ve got a naughty doggie there, don’t you?’”

This was only the first of the amazing stories she wove into our brief conversation. She may have really had the amazing life she claims or if she may be delusional, either way she’s a masterful storyteller. Weaving stories like airy tapestries, and I’m fascinated. I definitely intend to cultivate this friendship.

listing

trilliann — 2006-03-19T04:03:01-05:00

I’m a compulsive list maker. At the moment, I’m juggling a to-do at home list, a to-do at work list, a people to call list, a rather complicated packing list (things to pack now, things to pack at the last minute as they’ll be used until then, things to pack if there’s room, camera things, medicinal things…) prescriptions to refill list, tv shows to program the VCR to record list, shopping list, and a list of my preferred mental hospitals. And then, of course, there is The List.

Oh, and now apparently a list of lists.

but of course

trilliann — 2006-03-20T09:03:26-05:00

They're rioting in Paris. Again. Across France, the reports from the weekend say about 1.5 million people took to the streets to protest job law reform.

And this time, it's in the heart of the tourist district.

The Sorbonne is closed, under seige from student protestors.

Many tourists were caught up unexpectedly, and had to be taken to the hospital as they were tear gassed by the police along with the protestors.

There are threats of a general strike, which could mean shutdown of public transportation, restaurants, stores, pretty much everything.

And we're going to be there in 3 days.

(Because it's all about me, right?)

Fantastic.

to paraphrase Cole Porter

trilliann — 2006-03-20T09:03:26-05:00

I love Paris in the springtime

I love Paris in the fall

I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles

I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles

I love Paris every moment, every moment of the year

Except when they're rioting, then not so much.

I can't think of any songs about Rome...

taking a line from Streisand

trilliann — 2006-03-21T10:03:29-05:00

"When in Rome"

And though from Italy

I lied to you prettily
Oh don’t think of me bitterly
But know that I’m true
Except now and then in Rome,
I get that old yearn in Rome
And naturally when in Rome
I do as the Romans do
If I write happily
Best wishes from Napoli
Don’t cable me snappily
To tell me were through
Cause I’m once again in Rome
In somebody’s den in Rome
Well honey, but when in Rome
I do as the Romans do
So just disregard the signs and the omens
When in Rome I do as the Romans do...

And with apologies to the B-52’s

Fly the great big sky see the great big sea
Kick through continents bustin’ boundaries
Take it hip to hip rock it through the wilderness
Around the world the trip begins with a kiss

'Rome' if you want to
'Rome' around the world
'Rome' if you want to
Without wings, without wheels

valuable information

trilliann — 2006-03-21T01:03:44-05:00

An excellent resoure, especially for parents. This website Family Watchdog lists all registered sex offenders in your area, with their name, photograph, and conviction history.

I found 26 listed within a 10 mile radius of my home, 97 near my office. The guy in the next office from me found 161 near his home- I think he'll be watching his kids a bit more closely when they go out to play.

Be safe, my friends.

ask me and I'll tell you

trilliann — 2006-03-22T10:03:02-05:00

Blognapped from shiny

I want everyone who reads this to ask me 3 questions, no more no less.
Ask me anything you want. Really. I'll answer anything. I may opt to e-mail answers to particularly sensitive questions, however.
Then, you do the same thing. Go to your journal, copy and paste this allowing your friends (including myself) to ask you anything.

Here's the twist:

Of the three questions you ask, I will answer two of them absolutely truthfully.
As for the other question -- I'll lie like a politician. I will not reveal which two answers are truthful and which one is the lie.

(I so don't have time for this today... oh, well! )

q&a

trilliann — 2006-03-22T05:03:13-05:00

*Any questions posted by 10:00 pm EST tonight will be answered by tomorrow. Anything else, ask away and I'll answer when I get back, sometime around the 1st.

You know, right after you've completely lost interest.

Not that there's exactly overwhelming interest now.

mantra

trilliann — 2006-03-23T07:03:12-05:00

I will not worry about the ongoing threat of terrorism.

Or the riots in Paris.

Or the travel warning issued by the US Consulate in Italy.

Or lost luggage, delayed flights, missed connections, bad weather, cheap hotels, food I can't identify, or the challenges involved in herding my family full of completely different interests and attention spans.

I will enjoy my vacation. I will be alert to all around me- not just to the wonder of the architectural monuments, artistic masterpieces, fantastic food, and sense of history, but also to the wonder of a flower struggling thru a crack in the sidewalk.

Don't worry about me. If I'm not back in time for April Fools' Day, it will be one of two reasons. Either I've been swept off my feet by a charming french and/or italian man, and decided to hang out a while. Or my loving family has driven me directly to a good mental hospital, where I can enjoy the lastest fashion in white coats and padded walls.

Ya'll be good-ish.

jetlagging

trilliann — 2006-03-31T11:03:09-05:00

There's no place like Paris

There's no place like Rome

But most of all

There's no place like Home

newsworthy

trilliann — 2006-04-01T05:04:24-05:00

The first question on everyone’s lips seems to be “What about the riots in Paris? Was it scary? Were you in danger? Did it spoil your trip?”

No, it definitely didn’t spoil my trip. In fact, it was an experience I’ll never forget.

During the day, I cautiously shepherded the family to safe areas. But as night fell… well, as a devotee of Victor Hugo, the thought of students taking to the barricades was more than I could resist. When else might I have the opportunity to be a part of something like this?

The concierge insisted that the protests would remain peaceful, so I decided to take the metro to the Sorbonne area in search of new experiences, hoping that as long as I kept my mouth shut no one would suspect that I wasn’t French. (Or that secretly I think the job reform is mostly a good idea.) The metro was shut down due to the transit strikes, but it wasn’t that far, so I walked. Moonlight in Paris is beyond beautiful.

It felt like time travel- like approaching a scene straight from the 60’s. Crowds of young people waving candles and signs while chanting their slogans, passing around bottles of potent drinks. Suddenly, the mood turned ugly. I tried to make my way out of the crowd, but found my way blocked by what seemed to be an army of police in riot gear. Screaming and confusion in all directions, and I began to hear distant explosions, see fires spring up.

At some point, I was bundled into a van with a crowd of protesters. Thankfully I still had my passport on me, so I convinced the police that I was just a hapless tourist who took a wrong turn- even convinced them to give me a ride back to my hotel. I got in just in time to sneak into bed before the alarm went off, and joined the family for breakfast. They still don’t know why I was so bleary eyed that next day.

At least, that’s the story I would tell if I were an april fool’s prankster. But I’m not, so I won’t. Truth be told, we saw no signs of any disruptions whatsoever while we were there. The transit strikes started the day after we left, all was calm and friendly while we were there.

Rome, however, is another story…

family matters

trilliann — 2006-04-01T10:04:14-05:00

Let me preface this by stating that I love my family dearly. They may have rubbed raw every last nerve that I, normally a most patient person, have ever dreamed of having. I may at times sound a tiny bit sarcastic regarding their exploits, but anyone else saying anything negative about them will face the wrath of Trill.

That being said, let me introduce you to the crew:

Poppa- My grandfather. Benefactor providing the financial means for the trip. 75 years old, and physically the most able of the group, he’s always full of energy and raring to go. Tends to get distracted and wander off frequently, then upset because “everyone else wandered off.”

Grams- My grandmother. Divorced from aforementioned grandfather for about 25 years. To say that she’s kind of feisty is like saying the Eiffel tower is kind of tall. Would fight the combined forces of the entire world for her family (especially her wonderful, beautiful, brilliant granddaughters.) Asks incessant questions without listening to the answers. First to admit that her motto is “Panic first!”

Dad- Looks like Colin Mochrie, of Who's Line is it Anyway and Snack Fairy fame. Always the comedian, and has never met a stranger. Nerves tend to get rather frayed when dealing with his wife’s family for extended times.

Mom- Sweet and easygoing, a peacemaker. An art lover, could cheerfully wander around museums and architectural marvels for weeks.

Aunt- Shopaholic gone haywire. Would rather shop for trinkets than actually see the places she’s buying souvenirs of. Very generous, few of the things she buys are for herself. A bit ditzy, like her mother she asks incessant questions without listening to the answers, but her questions tend to be rather odd.

Cousin Ally- Married and started having kids young, has never really traveled. Only her second time in an airplane. Enjoys shopping almost as much as her Mother, but also fascinated by everything around her.

Me- De facto leader of the group, because no one else was willing to do the research or read a map. Attempting to make everybody happy, despite varying levels of interest, intelligence, health, stamina, and cultural knowledge.

Here’s a quick family tree, leaving out all the siblings, spouses and such who didn’t make the journey with us.

Poppa ___________Grams

(divorced)

I I

Aunt Mom _______Dad

I I

Cousin Ally Me

the journey begins

trilliann — 2006-04-02T12:04:39-05:00

Traveling with my extended family was a new experience for me. I've traveled rather extensively with my immediate family members, even more extensively on my own or with one or two close friends.

This was a whole different ballgame.

After the ordeal of getting everyone thru security "What do you mean I have to remove my shoes?!" and on the plane, I was more than ready for a nice, long, eight hour nap. I reminded everyone of the importance of trying to get some sleep on the plane, put on my eye mask, popped an Ambien and reclined my seat the full allowable quarter inch.

Nudge nudge "Trill, how long until they serve us dinner?"

"I dunno. But we ate just before we got on the plane, remember? Airplane food is really not worth staying awake for, you should try to get some sleep."

"Trill, how do you shut the window shade?"

"Trill, how long until we get there?"

"Trill, where are we going again?"

Mercifully, the sleeping pill took effect and I slept a while. Next thing I knew was hearing my Grams giggling like a teenager. "Look, her mouth is hanging open! See if you can throw a peanut in it!"

We arrive at 6am local time, midnight at home. Drop the bags off at the hotel and head to the Ille de la Cite, the heart of Paris. We haven't even made it to the first Metro station before Aunt & Cuz have stopped at souvenir stand. Without, of course, telling anyone they were stopping. Poppa is off in another direction with his video camera, wandering in to traffic. Peanut throwing Grams is looking very sleepy, and irate that the hotel won't let us check in until 3pm.

"I need a beer." she announces.

"Um, Grams, it's barely breakfast time.I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit."

As we go down the steps to the Metro, I realize that we may have a bit of a problem. Aunt has had knee and ankle surgery, and stairs are difficult for her. The French, apparently, have never heard of the concept of handicapped accesibility. Not only is there no such thing as elevators or escalators, half the time there isn't even a stable handrail.

Our first stop is the Palais de Justice, still an active courthouse.

Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité

Liberty, Equality, Brotherhood! And, of course, the infamous prison where many, including Marie-Antoinette, were held until their exectuion by guillotine.

In line, Grams is irate that some people seem to feel they have the right to by pass the lines.

"See those security badges they have, Grams? Those mean they work here."

Poppa decides to follow one of these people, pushing thru the line, and promptly disappears. Thus begins the first of our repeating chorus, "Where's Poppa?"

"Why are those people wearing the funny black cloak thingies?"

"They're lawyers, that's their uniform."

"Excuse me, officer, where are the bathrooms?"

"He doesn't speak english, Aunt, we're in France now."

"Oh, come on, everybody speaks english!"

"Well, he won't admit to it if he does. We'll find a toilet in a minute. Look, there's Poppa doing around that corner, let's catch up with him."

"Poppa! Stop!"

"Please don't yell in here, Cuz, this is a courtroom."

"Why are you going that way? It says exit!"

"It also says Sainte Chappelle, which is where we're heading, remember?"

"I don't want to exit, we just got here!"

"We aren't exiting, the chapel is part of this complex."

Then to Sainte Chapelle. Surrounded by the courthouse, this gothic cathedral seems to be constructed almost entirely of glass. Completed in 1248 a.d., even more amazing is that it took only 3 years to build.

Entry is thru the small and rather underwhelming lower chapel.

"Is this it? That was a lot of fuss for nothing!"

"No, Grams, this is just the entry. We have to go up that spiral staircase, see?"

Aunt, Cuz, Grams, and Mom squeal "Oh, look, a gift shop!"

Guards, other tourists, Dad and Me "SHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Truly an architectural marvel, part of the reason the chapel is so well preserved is that it was used as administrative offices during the revolution. The huge stained glass was covered by gigantic filing cabinets.

Each panel of the glass tells a story... but it's so overwhelmingly huge, that I can't make out any of them.

These guys have been peering over the edge for about 8 centuries now.

Fallen Angel

part the second

trilliann — 2006-04-03T01:04:02-05:00

Out the back door of Sainte Chapelle and down the block, we come to Notre Dame.

Construction began in 1163, and essentially was completed in 1345.

I work in construction, we typically have a 4-5 month building schedule. I cannot imagine beginning a buildingproject, knowing that it would be completed by your great-times-a-bunch-grandchildren.

Again, it's the little details of the building that I love.

Adam and Eve, and a modest tree.

I can't get out!

I don't know these tired tourists, but aren't they cute?

Poppa and I were all for climbing the bell tower, but the line was long, the stairs were steep, and my followers revolted. Suddenly, a cold wind blew in, bringing fits of rain spluttering with it. We hurried across the bridge

to the best part of the day. Coffee and 3 petite desserts.

That little pot of chocolate something was the best chocolate I have ever tasted, bar none. And lemme tell you, I have tasted some chocolate in my time.

Metro back to the hotel, and everyeon is disappointed because we haven't caught a glimpse of the Eiffell Tower yet. After we were all settled in for the night (except Poppa, who called us all wimps and went out dancing) I opened my window and leaned out.

There, off to the right... the Eiffel Tower! Brilliantly lit, sparkling in welcome. And to the left, gleaming like a big white onion on the hill, was the Sacre Coeur.

Truly awesome.

what a deal!

trilliann — 2006-04-04T11:04:44-05:00

List price: $44,000.00

Our price: $26.77

Your savings; $43,973.23

Now that is a deal!

who knew?

trilliann — 2006-04-04T09:04:50-05:00

spotted in Piazza Navona, Rome, Italy

Who knew rance had been around that long?

pg-13 warning

trilliann — 2006-04-05T07:04:50-05:00

I feel I should warn you, this entry contains full marble nudity.

At some point, we visited the Louvre. Grams was highly (and loudly) scandalized by all the nakedness. “What?” she exclaimed “Was it too hard to carve some clothing?”

I was amused by this one.

He says: “Ok, I’ve got my funky helmet, my sword, my pack. I’m all set!”

She says “Honey, you forgot something…”

Three graces. Grams: “Hussies!”

Around another corner, regroup . Where’s Poppa?

Ok, moving on.

My personal favorite, Winged Victory. Grams was somewhat mollified that this chick at least had some clothes on, even though I think she looks ready to win any wet t-shirt contest.

Snuck a peak into an area where they have newly discovered statues, and others undergoing repair.

Looking up thru the famous glass pyramid

It’s strictly forbidden to take pictures in the rooms with paintings. Of course, I still did, but none of ‘em turned out good enough to share.

We did, of course, see the Mona Lisa. Jostled our way thru the crowds, so Aunt could exclaim in disappointment “That’s it?”

Never understood the fuss, myself. Just a very small picture of an ugly chick who’s starting to think about maybe smiling.

Feeling very nauseous, so I paid almost $4 (!) for a coke while Aunt and Cuz explore the multiple gift shops. Ouch. Can someone please explain to me why coke is more expensive than wine in France?

Can’t get the stupid thing open, so Poppa takes it from me. He struggles to twist the lid for a couple minutes before Grams yanks it away from him. One twist, and it’s open.

Poppa grumbles “See why I divorced her?”

wishing

trilliann — 2006-04-07T01:04:16-05:00

If I snuck out the back door right now, I could just make it to Birmingham in time for gusopenshaw 's stooge's reading and booksigning at 4. Then I could have dinner with snuggs, help with her homework (ha! that's funny) crash on her couch for the night and wake up dead of a massive allergic reaction to assorted animals.

It'd be great.

Except, I'd really like a job to come back to on Monday.

Well, not the job so much. The paycheck come friday is nice, though.

Ok, distract the boss, duct tape over the security camera, bribe the coworkers, and...wait a minute, you want how much to keep quiet? Wow, this is getting to be quite an expensive book.

most annoying sound on earth

trilliann — 2006-04-07T08:04:28-05:00

The air raid sirens are going off. The sky is as clear and calm as can be, I checked the radar and there's no sign of a storm system anywhere nearabouts, and it's too late to be a test, so here's the only options I can think of.

1) Somebody hit the wrong button. And hasn't figured it out for, oh, about ten minutes now.

2) There's a freak tornado out there.

3)We are under attack. Somebody decided "Well, if they're gonna call 'em air raid sirens, we might as well stage an air raid."

4) The aliens are coming. Again.

or, 5) I'm hallucinating. Again.

Any other theories?

ick

trilliann — 2006-04-08T11:04:50-05:00

Sometime in the wee small hours this morning the much promised storm system blew thru, pounding the roof with hailstones. The trees were banging on the walls, begging to be let in. Once the main fury of the storm passed over, the dratted air raid sirens went off again. Just in case anyone managed to sleep thru it thus far…

Sorry for the delay in trip photos, haven’t been feeling so hot lately. Among (many) other things, I feel like someone is choking me. Pressure in my throat, makes talking and swallowing painful. It got worse while I was away, to the point that it was making me vomit. So, had my monthly check up yesterday, and Doc says my thyroid is seriously enlarged, and I have all the symptoms of hypothyroidism, she thinks nodules. Apparently auto immune disorders can trigger thyroid disease, and lyme can trigger auto immune issues. I’m not entirely clear on this one, I may have drifted off at some point. So now I get to have an ultrasound of my thyroid, probably followed by a biopsy.

Fun. Because waiting in hospitals for more tests, even if they aren’t overly invasive or painful, is just my favorite thing to do.

I also appear to have hives on my hands, but we’ll get to that later.

While I was there, got my antibiotics shots, which always makes me sick for a day or two after. However, I feel pretty good for a couple weeks after that, so it’s worth it.

Although right now, when I’m sleep deprived and sick and choking, it’s a bit difficult to locate my rose colored glasses.

So, I’ll continue with the trip report soon. If you’re still interested.

jealousy

trilliann — 2006-04-13T03:04:31-05:00

i don't wanna grow up

trilliann — 2006-04-13T08:04:58-05:00

I was bemoaning to my Mom yesterday about turning 29 (momentarily forgetting life lesson # 487,942: Never complain about getting older to anyone older than you, especially your mother. You won’t get any sympathy.)

Mom’s response was classic. “Think of how many women you know who chose to be 29 and holding. So, it can’t be that bad of an age.”

chocolatey goodness

trilliann — 2006-04-17T03:04:34-05:00

CHOCOLATE THERAPY!
You scored 81% SWEET, 74% CHUNKY, and 77% UNIQUE!

chocolate ice cream with chocolate cookies & swirls of chocolate pudding ice cream

You, my friend, ooze sweetness, just like this ice cream flavor. But there's much more to you than that...you tend to view things differently than other people and you like to engage yourself in creative, challenging activities. You're spunky, but not too wild, which is nice. Those who understand you tend to get along with you very well, appreciating all that you have to offer...and you offer a lot :)

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 72% on SWEET

You scored higher than 71% on CHUNKY

You scored higher than 88% on UNIQUE

Link: The Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Flavor Test written by weered1 on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

back by popular (and demanding) demand

trilliann — 2006-04-17T10:04:15-05:00

We began Saturday at the Arc de Triomphe.

The view from the top is amazing. Cold, grey, and windy, but amazing.

The plan was then to stroll along the Champs Elysees, towards d’Orsay museum. Poppa insisted he knew the way to go.

“No, Poppa, it’s that way. We saw the Louvre from up there, remember? And the Orsay is across the Seine from there.”

Unfortunately, logic did not win this argument. So we proceeded in the exact opposite direction for about a block, me gently arguing, until Aunt spotted what was apparently the Holy Grail of shopping.

And it’s probably not what you’re thinking.

Aunt, you see, is a Martha Stewart wannabe, minus the conviction and jail time. She adores Victoria magazine, decorates her home in flowers, doilies, and fine china. She goes into rhapsodies at the sight of a well laid tea table. Ecstasy at the mere thought of planning a wedding.

She also happens to ride a Harley.

Did I mention that my family is a bit odd?

So, what should she see but a Harley Davidson store.

Great.

This could take a while.

The store is too small for all of our motley crew to fit in (not that we would “fit in” even if there was more space.) So the rest of us parked on a nearby bench while she shopped.

And shopped.

Finally, about an hour and a half later, we managed to pull her away. We are now seriously behind schedule- and still walking in the wrong direction. Poppa is still determined that we’re going the right way, no one else is looking at a map, and I’m about to tear my hair out, when inspiration hits in the form of a big “M” sign. Of course! Poppa can’t figure out the Metro at all.

“Hey, everybody, I think it’s a bit further of a walk than I thought. How about we hop on the Metro to save time?”

Thankfully, everyone agrees, we catch a train going back the way we intended, and get to the Orsay. An amazing museum, the building was originally a Victorian train station. Famous for it’s incredible collection of Impressionists, it’s much more personable thatn the Louvre, and not nearly so overwhelming.

By the by, should you ever find yourself there- the impressionist are upstairs. There are, in fact, escalators to take you up, but they would really rather you didn’t know that. It’s part of the French conspiracy to force you to be healthy and thin- they may begrudgingly install elevators and escalators, but they sure as heck aren’t gonna volunteer the information. To get there, you walk across the entire length of the museum, to the back wall. Sneak around a few “Do Not Cross” and “Employees Only” barriers and other nonsense. Eventually, back in a dark corner filled with spiderwebs, you’ll find the loooooong escalators.

However, they only go up. To get back down is another adventure.

sweepstakes junkie

trilliann — 2006-04-19T11:04:53-05:00

So you keep hearing in the news about how much money search engines, like Google, are raking in. Wouldn’t it be a fantastic marketing technique if someone started giving some of that money they get from advertisers back to the site visitors?

Well, guess what? Somebody is.

The site is Blingo, and it’s powered by Google search, so you get the same great results. (Although they’re still coming up short on some of Google’s cooler features, like maps.)

The difference is that they randomly, generally a couple times an hour, give out prizes. Free movie tickets, Visa gift cards, Ipods.

I created a new email address just for the site, to make sure I wouldn’t be deluged with spam before I recommended them. So far, not one junk mail has come to that address, so I feel good about recommending them.

You don’t have to click on the advertisers to be entered. It doesn’t even increase your chances if you do.

Here’s the kicker- you sign up thru this link as my friend. And if you win something- so do I!

Please help further my quest to obtain an ipod, without either paying for it or going to jail. It takes 15 seconds to sign up, and you don’t have to give them your personal info unless you win.

But you have to sign up thru this link. Because if I hear that you won and I don’t get credit as your friend, I shall be seriously put out.

I know I'll be accused of whoring out my blog, but... oh, well. I really do think it's a brilliant marketing move. And I really, really like free stuff.

Thank you.

feeling testy

trilliann — 2006-04-20T07:04:43-05:00

Well, I’m on my way to the hospital for more tests.

I hate hospitals.

I hate tests.

I hate the bills that come from the hospitals for the tests.

I hate fighting with the insurance company to cover the tests.

I hate waiting for the results.

I hate when they call and say “These tests looked fine. We’ll have to run some more tests.”

I hate when they say “These tests don’t look so good. You need another prescription.”

But right now, even more than all that I hate this choking feeling in my throat, not being able to breathe or swallow or talk without gagging and pain.

I hate waking up gasping for air.

I hate feeling like there is a hand clenched around my throat.

So, I’ll succumb to the lesser evil and go report for my throat ultrasound. I’ll even let them biopsy my thyroid, if they want, or whatever else they come up with.

And I’ll pray for accurate results. No false positives. No false negatives. No maybes.

I feel certain that whatever’s choking me, it’s “nothing serious.” I just hope it’s not also “nothing we can do about it.”

And right now, I’ll stop feeling sorry for myself and shut up.

I'll be just fine. See?

trilliann — 2006-04-20T12:04:31-05:00

One Step Ahead
You are 76% likely to survive the end of the world.

You're alive, with minimal effects from whatever disaster struck. You're in good health, with moderate supplies, have a plan, and maybe a few other survivors with you to help out with manual labor. Congrats, you're gonna do just fine when all hell breaks loose.

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 53% on sp

Link: The Apocalypse Survival Test written by ci8db4uok on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

in the air tonight

trilliann — 2006-04-20T07:04:15-05:00

A strange storm rolls across the heavens tonight.

Thunder, long and low, like some giant hands waving sheets of aluminum

bom bom bom bom BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM bom bom bom…

Nearby, a small dog bursts loose with a cacophony of barking, each yipe the exact same in timbre and pitch as the one before

The air is still. Earth holds her breath, waiting.

A green cast comes over the sky, strangely bright in this waiting hour

I’ll not shut out this storm.

Throw open the windows and door.

Let its cleansing power rush over, thru, around me

And laugh

crossroad

trilliann — 2006-04-22T05:04:01-05:00

I find myself at something of a crossroads. I feel that I’m being hurried along one path, while I really want to consider the options, even if the way I’m being pushed is the logical choice.

My parents have asked me to move back home with them.

All of the arguments in favor of doing so are completely logical.

They’ve both been having some health problems- Dad in particular. In the past couple years he’s had several bouts of kidney stones, and had to have major neck surgery. Now he’s been in a lot of pain, diagnosed with a probable inguinal hernia and they found a polyp in his colon that will have to be removed and biopsied. More tests to follow shortly. Oh, and they’re both self employed and uninsured.

So, they desperately need my financial support. The only way I can help at all would be to move in with them, and give them the money I’m currently spending on rent.

They even have an enclosed garage, currently used for storage, that I could eventually convert and basically have the same setup I do now.

It’s not that far of a move- about 5 miles.

Wouldn’t even have to file a change of address, because I already have my mail delivered there. Apparently, the apartment I’m renting now isn’t technically fully legal. Anyway, it was never assigned an address, and I decided long ago I’d rather pick up my mail at my parents house than wait for my landlords to sort mine out, or drive all the way to the post office.

I have a great relationship with my parents, they drive me far less crazy than any other members of my family.

I always assumed I would help take care of them at some point, I just didn’t expect it to come quite so soon.

I own about a half acre of property that borders theirs, I’d like to build myself a tiny little house there someday.

Would get to have mom’s home cooking a whole lot more often. Plus, when I feel like cooking, I would actually have someone other than just me to cook for.

What makes it difficult to just go ahead and say yes, is that I really like living alone. Sleeping late, or coming home late, or dropping everything to go somewhere, and no one else has to give me permission, or even know about it. I enjoy the quiet.

It’s easier to downplay to them how sick I am when I don’t see them all the time. Easy to say “Yeah, I’m fine”, when I’m laying on the couch half dead if they can’t see me. ‘Cause goodness knows, they worry.

What it really comes down to is that I feel like a failure if I move back in. Who wants to be an adult living with their parents? There is a definite negative stereotype attached to it. It would hardly be loving to go around explaining “Um, yeah, I’m moving back, but it’s because they need help, not because I can’t make it on my own.”

Anyway. I guess I know what has to be done. I’m certainly not going to turn my back on them when they have swallowed their pride to admit they need me. Even if it does make me feel six years old.

I would appreciate your thoughts.

Important Public Service Announcement

trilliann — 2006-04-24T02:04:57-05:00

May I have your attention, please?

It has come to our attention that tomorrow, Tuesday, April 25, 2006 is Free Cone Day at Ben & Jerry's.

Please proceed to your nearest Ben & Jerry's location between 12pm and 8pm to obtain your free necessary provisions.

We ask that you do your part to make this world a brighter place, and spread this important PSA.

Thank you for your attention.

I believe in a shiny america

trilliann — 2006-04-30T10:04:25-05:00

One of the funniest videos I've seen in a long time.

of loss and faded memories

trilliann — 2006-05-01T03:05:18-05:00

A couple of years ago, I lost a huge portion of my personal library when the water heater developed a leak. Living in a tiny apartment with no closets except the tiny room the water heater was in, storage space was at a premium, so I had stacked entirely too many piles of boxes in what turned out to be a very vulnerable area.

There was no sign the water heater had a problem- hot water still flowed freely from the pipes. I didn’t hear any dripping. In fact, it was only discovered when I started to smell something a bit funky.

Everything in that closet was a total loss. Even the floor had to be ripped out and completely replaced- all this from what the contractor said was probably leaking only just over a week. My off-season clothes, childhood mementos, old tax records, tons of craft projects I never quite finished. But most importantly, my books. Cardboard boxes piled to the ceiling, longing for the day when I had space for bookshelves to house them all. Valuable antiques, trashy novels, heavy historical tomes, classic scifi, signed first editions, old battered favorites- all destroyed.

I grieved for a long time over those. Part of me grieves still. (Although, it did give me a great excuse to buy more books! And, of course, tightly sealed Rubbermaid boxes to store them in.)

My old favorites are generally replaceable. What haunts me now is when some half remembered plot floats thru my mind, and I want to revisit a story- but I can’t remember the title or author.

Once, that was my excuse to dig thru my boxes, visiting with old friends. Hours, if not days, of delightful distraction. If I forgot what I was searching for in the meantime, it really didn’t matter.

Now, it often happens that I remember a faint thread of a plot, or a character that I enjoyed. Maybe part of a quote that I would like to reference.

And it’s not there to be found.

Usually, I can use these half remembered bits as a basis to search the internet, and find what I seek.

But ever so often, as now, one stays just beyond my reach.

For weeks, I’ve been thinking of a book series I read. I remember buying the set at a dusty old used bookstore. I remember that they were large paperbacks, with dark colored covers. I remember that the lead character was an artist, who was uninspired by modern art, and created work that was reminiscent of another era. I remember the great art historians of his time “discovered” his work, and attributed it to a previously unknown master of times past, that it started great debate in the scholastic circles as to who this great artist could have been- even though he had not exactly intentionally set out to deceive. I believe they called him the “unknown alchemist.” I think I remember that his wife was descended from gypsies. I remember some sort of parallel being drawn between him as a King Arthur type, idealistic, while his beautiful wife was also pursued by the handsome Lancelot-type.

I don’t remember the names of the characters, books, or author. I don’t even remember if I particularly liked the books.

But it’s driving me nuts (admittedly, a short drive) that I can’t remember what it was, can’t dig thru my books to find them, and it seems I can’t even google them.

Anybody have any idea what the series I’m trying to think of might be?

If not, can you recommend a few good books to get my mind off of it?

wanderments

trilliann — 2006-05-04T05:05:25-05:00

It’s been a spectacularly brutal week. Largely my own fault, not knowing my own limits. Or, knowing, but ignoring. My brain is a bit more scrambled than usual, but I’ll try to catch up.

Got the results on my throat ultrasound, everything looked normal. (At least something is.) Still feel like I have a tennis ball stuck in my throat, so now I’m supposed to see an Otolaryngologist. (As soon as I find one who is open beyond my working hours and accepting new patients, of course.)

Tomorrow, thanks be to goodness, is Friday.

The vast majority of the 187 plants in my brand new organic garden (remember what I said about overdoing it?) are thriving. In fact, I need to find a home for a bunch of my seedlings. I can’t stand to just root them out, they’re my babies. But if I don’t they’ll all suffer from overcrowding. Anybody want some baby plants? Free shipping! They’ll be dead before they get to you, but you don’t have to tell me that. I’ll continue in blissful ignorance. I’m quite good at fooling myself.

One of our contractors gave me 4 tickets and a much-coveted parking pass to the May 31 Braves vs Dodgers game. Whoo-hoo! All of the other members of my department were either at a “conference” in Palm Springs, in meetings all day, or called in sick, leaving me alone to do the jobs of 5 people. None of them got Braves tickets. * insert evil laughter here * I haven’t been to the Ted in years, I’m really looking forward to it. Fortunately, that’s the week after the Lost season finale, or else we would have a serious conflict of interest here.

Ok, time to go to the Parents’ house, check in on my garden, then head home and see if I can pack a bit before collapsing for the night.

G’night, all.

poppa of the opera

trilliann — 2006-05-08T12:05:04-05:00

Got a bit off track there, sorry.

As a long time Phantom of the Opera fan, I knew I had to see the Paris Opera house. The original Gaston Leroux book is excellent. It has inspired at least 15 movies, 4 miniseries, 7 musicals, 11 plays, 10 childrens books, and innumerable fan fiction, including one prequel that's well worth reading even if you aren't a fan. The true star of the novel is the location, the Opera house itself.

One thing I like about the French is that they name their great buildings after the architect, not the sponsor. Thus, the Opera Garnier, after the architect Charles Garnier.

We could take a tour... but, then I found out that we could get tickets for a performance for only $20 each.

Such an amazing experience for our last night in Paris.

Did I mention that my knee had by this point swollen to the size of a canteloupe? It always swells when I fly, but this time was bad. Fortunately, I had my monopod for my camera- like a tripod with one leg. Turns out, it makes an excellent walking stick.

The front is rather unimpressive. Very square.

Beautiful artwork surrounds it, though.

Immediately inside is the grand staircase, which is absolutely stunning.

Just inside stands a line of ushers, rather dashing in full James Bond tuxes, waiting to take your ticket. Tall, dark and handsome greets me and checks my ticket. Brief exchange of politenesses, then he asks something beyond my limited French. I smile and say "Sorry, I don't speak much French." He and the surrounding ushers look shocked and he replies "I thought you were French!"

Wow. Guess my accent is getting better. Must be the company.

In halting English, he asks "Would you like a lift... with me?"

"Sure, baby. Where are you going?"

Unfortunately, by "lift" he meant the elevator. He saw me leaning on my monopod and assumed I was too crippled to climb the stairs.

Oh, well.

When I bought the tickets, the system wouldn't let me get 7 seats together. Oh, darn. :P Grams, Poppa, Aunt, and Cuz all take their tickets and went straight to their seats like good little theatre patrons. Not us. We went exploring.

This is without a doubt one of the most spectacular buildings I have ever seen. Every inch is a work of art. And Mom and I have box seats.

Each box is a tiny private room. An usher has to let you in thru the narrow door with a key. (Which also means that if one felt the need to visit the WC during a performance, one would also need to hunt down an usher to let you back in to the box.) As you enter the “box”, there is a tiny red couch to the left, a large mirror to the right. After all, these seats are designed for those wishing to be seen, not to see. In fact, the best seats, the really expensive boxes, are almost directly over the stage. Terrible place to try to see a play, but great place to be seen.

Going in to the box, there are 5 elegant gold gilt and red velvet chairs in 3 rows. The person in the last row has to sit by themselves, but at least they have room to breathe. The box is only a couple feet across, I cannot imagine how ladies in the full skirts of times past ever managed to fit in the delicate little chairs.

Everything is red velvet, gold, crystal and marble. And yet, while other places such as Versailles felt overwhelming, the Garnier felt warm, inviting. Maybe it’s just because I love theaters.

The infamous chandelier, and the ceiling painted by Chagal. I don’t care for the ceiling personally- to me, the modern art clashed horribly with the classic elegance of the rest of the theatre.

Just a string quartet, playing Kreisler and Zemlinsky. Excellent acoustics. The family thought it made perfect music to sleep by.

As you can see, they're on an extended stage, over the orchestra pit. The real stage is behind them.

It was easy to spot the Americans. We were the ones who kept wanting to clap between songs. No matter how long the pause, or how good the musicians, apparently there is to be NO APPLAUSE until the last song is finished.

Poppa is a huge theatre buff, so he loved it. The instant the last piece finished, he tore off up the stairs, so he could see the inside of our box and look around upstairs. He was wearing this bizarre ankle length wool cape thingummy the whole trip, so he got to swish it around and play Poppa of the Opera.

Tomorrow, if the Lord is willin' and the crick don't rise, Italy!

Bella Roma

trilliann — 2006-05-09T10:05:44-05:00

I believe I promised an entry today, if certain conditions were met.Well, the crick didn't rise, so I guess the good Lord was willin'.

I'm too tired for commentary, but all you really wanted was pictures anyhow, right?

Here's some pics from our first day in Rome. Enjoy!

downhill

trilliann — 2006-05-10T12:05:15-05:00

Our last night in Paris, Poppa managed to lock the key in his hotel room. Simple enough, one might think. Just go down to the front desk, and politely explain your predicament, and they’ll let you in.

Unfortunately, things don’t work quite that way. You see, they don’t have a spare key. *blinks* The only person with a spare key is the housekeeper, and she won’t be in until maybe 9am. Which, coincidentally, is the exact time we are supposed to leave for the airport. And Poppa hasn't packed yet.

We all took a turn at trying to pick the lock. I usually have some skill at this… erm, we won’t go into how this skill was developed… but after destroying three credit cards, two coathangers, a few fingernails, and sundry other attempts, it was determined to be unpickable. The hotel gave Poppa another room to sleep in, and we all prayed the housekeeper would arrive early the next morning.

Which, thankfully, she did.

After several days of tour-guiding, explaining what everything was 6 times over, my throat and nerves were feeling the strain, so I asked Dad to take the lead today.

I gave him all my info to read, about which train to take from the airport, followed by which bus, as well as where to get a taxi if we went that route.

Do not, under any circumstances, the books all say, take a ride with the taxi drivers who come up to you soliciting your business. Go to the official taxi stands. Wait in line. A taxi should cost $40-$50, plus $1 per bag.

Simple enough.

For some reason, the same people who had passively followed me for four days, decided to revolt. Everyone had a loud and strong opinion, not remotely based on the research or the price or much of anything, except they wanted a taxi and they wanted it now.

As soon as we stepped out of the airport, we were surrounded by taxi drivers who desperately wanted our business. They start grabbing our bags and loading them up- I grab Dad and hoarsely insist “Agree on a price first!”

“How much?” he asked the nearest driver.

“200 euros, per car. 7 people, we should be able to get you in two, maybe three cars.”

WHAT?!

I spoke my first clear word of the day.

“NO!”

Grams, Aunt, and Cuz are clammering to be gone, not willing to listen to reason. Dad is about to have a nervous breakdown, Poppa is wandering off in another direction on his own. Chaos reigns.

Then the driver Dad is currently arguing with looks over his shoulder and calls “Luigi!”

From around the corner walks the most gorgeous specimen of humanity that I have ever seen, or dreamt of. On a scale of 1-10, he is easily a 42.

All of them women in the group are suddenly silent, except for one tiny group sigh.

We’re content to stare while Dad bargains. I’m already bundled in to the taxi before I remember to ask “What price did you agree on?”

“$160 total, for two cars.”

Good grief.

I have a moment to sit back in the car, stare, and wonder why on earth this spectacular creature is stuck driving a taxi. He should be an actor. Model. Cabana boy.

Moments later, I found out why. He is categorically insane.

Of course, being categorically insane is apparently one of the requirements for driving in Italy, but Luigi left ‘em all behind. At one point, he hit 160kph, while straddling two lanes, holding the cell phone with one hand and gesticulating wildly with the other.

Grams pipes up and asks him “How many accidents have you been in?”

I translated. He looks hurt, turns around in his seat to look her in the eyes- still going at least 140kph- and says “None! Well,” he smiles, to devastating affect “none that were my fault.”

Just as we’re entering the city, another driver does something that upsets him. What possible driving infraction could be considered beyond the bounds of normality here are beyond me, but apparently it was quite serious.

Where were these guys when we needed them?

Luigi forced the other driver off the road, swerving the van and bumping the side of the other guys’ car until he pulled over. He then proceeded to block traffic for a full fifteen minutes- I kid you not- while he yelled at the other driver. I didn’t know most of the words, but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t saying, “Hey, buddy, you really should be more careful next time.”

After going the wrong way up a couple of one way streets, knocking over a few bikers, and leaving a trail of heart attacks in his wake, we finally arrive at our hotel. Grams and Aunt are in tears, Poppa is beet red, as I shakily hand him the cash for our overcharged ride.

He has the nerve to look hurt as he asks “What, no tip?”

Fortunately, this was nearby.

of short skirts and rabid plants

trilliann — 2006-05-10T06:05:38-05:00

For those of you with short attention spans, who couldn't find the strength to wade thru that last post.

I had it lined up. The perfect weird shot.

A flower market, downtown Rome, Italy.

To the left, dude in a satin Ceaser type outfit, over his suit pants and dress shoes.

Moving to the right, guy striking a pose in a gladiator costume with a dangerously short skirt, and very modern socks and shoes.

In the middle, guy carrying a rather fetching purse, while wearing gladiator breastplate and helmet over his blue jeans and sports coat.

And to the right, photographer taking a picture with his back to all this weirdness.

Then, the rabid plant attacked me, blocked my shot and killed my battery so I couldn't take any more pictures that day.

wandering

trilliann — 2006-05-11T12:05:29-05:00

Rome has public fountains everywhere. Here's one I didn't care to drink from.

Even with the rabid attack plants and weirdos, the Campo di Fiori, an open air flower market, was beautiful.

In most cities, waterfront property is the most beautiful and valuable. Not so in Rome. The ornery Tiber River flooded one too many times, so the Romans walled up it’s shores, turned their backs on it, and pretend it doesn’t exist. There’s so much potential, but a walk along the river is not pleasant. It’s dirty, grimy, and trashy. However, because they haven’t built right up to its banks, there are some few lovely spots.

I love the side streets. My favorite thing to do in a new city is get myself completely lost.

Ack! More mutant attack plants! Run away!

no subject

trilliann — 2006-05-16T09:05:12-05:00

I'm in training for new software implementation all week, homework at night. Hopefully this leads to a bit of job security.

Anyhow, I'll be keeping kind of caught of with my friends here, but please excuse me if I don't have time to comment & converse.

tequila mockingbird

trilliann — 2006-05-22T06:05:57-05:00

Unfortunately, it turns out that “To Kill a Mockingbird” is not an instruction manual.

I love birds. However, as has been previously established, they at times tend to return that affection in unacceptable ways. Dive bombing, snatching both hats and hair off my head, eating all the fruit off my plants, decorating my favorite shirt. And now, taking up lovelorn residence outside my window and singing their lonely little hearts out in the wee small hours.

A lonely male mockingbird has been waking me up at 3 am every morning. He’s quite the vocalist, can sing for hours at a time, varying his song every few seconds. If he would stick to one tune, I could sleep thru it. It's the constant variation- the very charm of mockingbirds- that jars me awake over and over. That, and the rather impressive volume.

We’re old friends, Mr M and I- he’s left me sleep depraved the last two Springs.

Last year I called the local Wildlife Management services to ask if they had any ideas on discouraging him from nesting so close. They informed me that it is “illegal to harm, harass, or remove a mockingbird.”

I don’t really want to harm him, obviously. I just want to duct tape his little beak shut for a few hours, that’s all.

Being in the process of moving, over the weekend I decided to stay at my new place and actually get a night of uninterrupted sleep.

3am. The Bird, apparently, followed me.

Supposedly, only bachelor birds sing at night. Presumably because if they had a hot chick in their nest, she’d tell ‘em to shut the heck up.

If I put some fermented berries in the birdfeeder, do you think he’d be too drunk to sing, or just be louder and off-key?

Anybody know a good dating service for birds?

no subject

trilliann — 2006-05-26T03:05:55-05:00

My 15 year old cousin Andy got home from school yesterday to find his step-father, my Uncle Bill, dead in the kitchen. Apparently a heart attack.

If you’re confused because my Uncle Bill died a couple months ago, there’s actually a very simple explanation. I have, or rather had, three Uncle Bill’s. Family gatherings would be far less confusing if at least one of them could have gone by Will, or William.

He was a kind, generous, warm and witty person, and I feel blessed to have known him. I’m planning to write about him soon, but for now I may continue to be absent for a couple days.

Holy Cow! (or, a lot of bull)

trilliann — 2006-06-03T12:06:45-05:00

Something has been creeping in at night and helping itself to the tender young plants in my garden. If I knew what kind of creature it was, I would have a better idea of what preventative measures to take. The last week has been understandably difficult, so last night after I got home from work was the first time I’ve had a chance to go and really inspect the damage.

Wandering distractedly thru the dusky twilight, I heard a most unexpected, and unmistakable sound.

“MMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Standing in the middle of my tiny, lovingly maintained garden, merrily munching away, was a very large cow. Or, to be more specific, bull.

Only a half grown bull, but a lot of bull nonetheless.

A million thoughts rushed thru my head, condensing to the most urgent question-

“What do I do first- call the farmer to come get his valuable animal? Or grab my camera?”

It was too dark to get a clear picture of a black cow on a dark evening, so I called. Quite an interesting chase it was, too. Last I knew they lost him in the woods down by the creek, so Mr Moo may still be wandering around here, looking for lunch.

never enough time

trilliann — 2006-06-05T06:06:35-05:00

I wanted to announce this as a fait accompli, but getting answers from the Powers That Be is always slow.

This is one of my current attempts at fundraising for labsnabys Avon Breast Cancer Walk.

My proposal is that the company I work for would sponsor a “Blue Jeans for Breast Cancer” drive. Everyone would be allowed to wear blue jeans, if they donate a specified amount to the cause, probably $1 each. Could be a one day event, hopefully it will be a day every week. They donate, and receive a sticker or pin identifying them as a participant-, which also helps raise awareness.

Hopefully, the company matches all donations.

Everyone here complains about never being allowed to wear jeans, I know at least 75% of us would pay a buck in a heartbeat to do so, even if it wasn’t going to a charitable cause. This way, everyone wins!

But, trying to get an answer from the PTB takes forever. So I decided to go ahead and share the idea, in case anyone here would like to try it at his or her place of employment.

However you can help, please visit her fundraising site. Keep track of the progress at knapsacksofhope . Help raise awareness for this very worthy cause. Cheer her on, so she can represent our community with pride.

Hundreds of thousands of men and women are diagnosed with breast cancer every year in this country alone. The Avon Walk foundation helps medically under-served people have access to the care they need, as well as funding vital research.

Please find it in your heart to offer whatever support you can.

doctor who?

trilliann — 2006-06-09T10:06:11-05:00

"Before I go, I just want to tell you; you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And you know what? So was I."

The Doctor is dead. Long live the Doctor.

kidnapped!

trilliann — 2006-06-14T06:06:57-05:00

On Saturday, I was the victim of a home invasion and kidnapping. A carload of people showed up on my doorstep, demanding that I change in to my “Real Men Wear Kilts” t-shirt and come with them. Their demands and reasoning were simple enough. They claim that I haven’t done anything “fun” with them in far too long, and if I wanted to continue to claim them as friends, I must pay their price- leave work undone, the garden untended, laundry unfolded, and smile, dammit.

Although I generally do not believe in conceding to the demands of terrorists, this time I gave in.

Once we were all forced in to the small vehicle, we headed north, towards the area where I was born and raised- the Blue Ridge Mountains, foothills of the Appalachians.

Finally, I discovered the reason for the RMWK shirt- we were going to the Blairsville Highland Games & Scottish Festival! Good idea, maybe I won’t report them to the police after all.

It was a lovely spot for the Games. North Georgia looks a lot like Scotland must have looked when the vast Caledonian forest was still there. The site chosen was along a creek, winding thru the hills.

First we came to the athletic field. I decided to test my zoom lens. The following two pictures were taken standing in the exact spot, with no zoom and maximum zoom.

Nice zoom, hunh?

We watched the opening ceremony- see brief video here.

Cheered for my kin, Clan McDonald. Restrained ourselves from booing the bluidy Campbells, choosing instead to maintain a dignified, stony silence.

We didn’t actually get to watch any of the games, because we got distracted by my new favorite band, Hunting McLeod.

They got CRUNK! And lemme tell you, those guys can rock that Celtic music something fierce. I was deaf for two days after.

There was an old fashioned military encampment

Country dancing

Weapons demonstrations

And wee coos

I saw several people who were long time friends of Uncle Bill, and informed them of his death. A piper and fiddler played “Flower of Scotland” in his honor, which was a fitting end to a lovely day.

Of course, this is apple country, so we stopped at an orchard on the way home so I could get a couple of fried pies and apple whiskey cake. (Of course it’s on my diet. It’s a fruit, innit?)

And you know what? All the chores and stuff I was so worried about leaving? They were still there when I got home.

fine art

trilliann — 2006-06-16T11:06:44-05:00

Fàilte! Ciamar a tha thu?

“What exactly,” I hear you asking, “do people do at Highland Games?”

I’m so glad you asked. So now I bring you (depending on popularity) either the first in a series of “Trill’s Guide to Highland Sports”, or the complete “Trill Explains the Caber Toss.”

The Caber Toss is always the most popular sport among the spectators. To the uninitiated, it appears that an athlete picks up a telephone pole and throws it, so that it flips end over end.

However, when you truly understand the art form… well, yeah, that’s pretty much it.

The traditional caber is typically around 14-20 feet long, and weighs 100-130 pounds. The athlete lifts it so that it stands vertically, requiring great strength and balance. The lift makes watching Games on a windy day especially interesting, and a time when front row seats become somewhat less sought after. Get your minds out of the gutter, I’m referring to the possibility of a caber being blown over into the crowd, not men in kilts on a windy day with no free hands to hold their skirts down!

A perfect toss flips end over end, and lands in a straight line in front of the contestant. The formula generally used for scoring is

Caber Score = (Weight of caber in Stones) x (length in yards) – (degrees removed from 12:00 position) (divided by 2 if it was not turned)

One Stone = 14 pounds

To view my highly technical slide show illustrating this, click on the brau wee laddie below. The red "T" on the end of the caber is to help you keep track of which end is up.

(Somebody let me know if the slide show thingummy is working for you, please and thank you.)

Click Here

finer art?

trilliann — 2006-06-19T09:06:00-05:00

Photobucket apparently decided to entertain itself by playing my little slide show in reverse, or in random order. After spending way too long trying to fix it, I thought maybe this would work better.
You know, if anyone really cares...

all gone

trilliann — 2006-06-19T09:06:17-05:00

Please keep an eye out for a kid with my hair, ok?

It took a long time, but my hair was finally long enough to donate to Locks of Love, without leaving me completely shorn. This is the second time I've donated my hair, but still, when the stylist handed me that 10" long braid, there's a sinking feeling of "What have I done?!?"

I love long hair, but unlike the children that Locks of Love makes hairpieces for, mine will grow back.

It was almost to my waist, now it's about chin length. It will be a lot cooler for the summer, but it's definitely going to take some adjusting.

long day

trilliann — 2006-06-21T07:06:01-05:00

Today really is the longest day of the year. I thought it just felt that way...

I get by with a little help from my friends

trilliann — 2006-06-27T02:06:09-05:00

A kind friend helped me out with some technical difficulties that had been plaguing me, then refused to allow me to reimburse them for their time and trouble. I felt I should express some appreciation.

I wonder if you can guess who it was?

Stumped? Try hitting “refresh” a couple times.

Charlotte's Web for the 21st Century

trilliann — 2006-06-28T01:06:13-05:00

Phyllis Smith may want to check around her property for nuclear waste, as the worms in her garden seem to be developing mutant powers. They recently left a simple message for her on one of her tomatoes.

“Hi!”

This brings up all sorts of ethical debate. If worms are capable of conversation, is it morally objectionable to spray insecticide? Could that, in fact, be considered an act of war against a sentient species? However, if the spray is in response to the property damage inflicted on aforementioned tomatoes, are we not simply responding to terrorist activities?

The various insects in my garden haven’t taken to leaving notes for me yet. But last night as I was staking up the tomatoes, I could have sworn I heard a tiny voice proclaiming “Mine! ALL MINE!!!”

Update- It has just been pointed out to me that this may in fact not be the friendly message it first appears, as it could also appear to say "his."

Can a matching vegetable proclaiming "hers" be far behind?

end of the world as we know it

trilliann — 2006-06-30T03:06:18-05:00

A giant asteroid, estimated at half a mile wide, is heading for Earth. Expected impact is Monday.

That’s right- not 100 years from now. 3 days from now.

As if Mondays weren’t bad enough.

Oh sure, the “experts” are claiming that it won’t actually impact our planet. “Only experienced astronomers who train their telescopes in exactly the right place will even be able to see it,” they claim. However, sky watchers remember that this Asteroid 2004 XP14 is the very same rock that was in the news when it was first discovered two years ago. Then, the scientists proclaimed that this one would “require watching for a possible impact event.”

Now, they tell us not to worry, it will merely be “making an exceptionally close approach.”

That’s exactly what they would say, isn’t it?

“Pay no attention to the Space Shuttle Discovery blasting off from Cape Canaveral tomorrow, it’s completely unrelated. Where are all the scientists and assorted bigwigs and their families? Well, it’s a holiday weekend; they’re all off on vacation. In underground bunkers. Very, very deep underground bunkers…”

That, my friends, is what they call spin. No reason to cause panic in the populace. Let them enjoy their last few moments, stocking up on fireworks and beer, because the bang is coming sooner than they think.

Truth be told, there is nothing much that we can do. Stick out your thumb and try to hitch a ride from a friendly passing spaceship, drown your worries in a gin and tonic and hang on, ‘cause it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

I should tell you

trilliann — 2006-07-02T02:07:19-05:00

If tomorrow the world ends, I just want you to know....

I love you.

And, erm, if it doesn't, well... in that case, forget I said anything.

voices in my head

trilliann — 2006-07-02T09:07:02-05:00

Well, this is different.

I’ve been home sick for a couple days, trying to distract myself thru a combination of books, television, and computer. Mostly tellie, today.

I have thus far enjoyed Dear Frankie, a half dozen Doctor Who episodes, Nanny McPhee, and Reign of Fire. The end result of all this Brit speak and a fever hovering around 101 seems to be that all the voices in my head have developed British accents.

No, not those voices in my head. You. You all have British accents today. Rather thick ones, actually. Even snuggs .

I tried reading a bit of Mark Twain and other colloquial American writing, but by George, it ‘tain’t working.

I’m finding it all quite entertaining, myself. Intriguing how my subconscious has assigned some of you cockney accents, couple highlanders, very few aristocratic. tootboy is distinctly liverpudlian.

Ah, well. As long as the bugs in my brain are having fun, might as well join ‘em.

important announcement

trilliann — 2006-07-03T01:07:34-05:00

The world did not, in fact, end. (Just in case you hadn't noticed.)

Danger has been averted.

Asteroid 2004 XP14 has zoomed by on its merry little way, with no discernable damage.

Except that someone seems to have knocked the gravity up a couple degrees today, but maybe that’s just me. Either that, or my bones have suddenly mutated into lead. Equally possible.

And you know what?

I still love you.

No, not you. You I’m still annoyed with. Everyone else.

Have a lovely happy Monday!

Yes, you.

trilliann — 2006-07-06T09:07:51-05:00

You need to be a part of this.

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in case you were wondering

trilliann — 2006-07-07T04:07:29-05:00

Lost marbles

Screw loose

Out of the box

Nuts

Off my rocker

One of these is not like the others… oh, well.

my superman

trilliann — 2006-07-09T08:07:53-05:00

Took my Dad out to see "Superman Returns" last weekend. It helped distract him for a few hours, which was nice.

Since then he's been telling people one of his favorite Trill Stories. When I was 3 years old, he took me to see Superman II. When he was tucking me into bed that night, I sleepily turned to him and asked "Are you my Superdaddy?"

*queue chorus of awwww's here*

He smiled and said "Yeah, honey, I'm your Superdaddy"

I looked him straight in the eye and deadpanned "Then fly, Superdaddy."

"She always could bring me back to earth," he says.

Lately I’ve been doing all I can distract him, rather than bringing him down to earth.

Dad is not doing well. He has an inguinal hernia, diverticulitus, chronic prostatitis, and a growth in his colon the Doctor’s are very concerned about.

All of it at once, all rather sudden, and seemingly unrelated.

He is in a lot of pain.

He’s unable to work, and, of course, has no health insurance.

Fortunately on that front, my Uncle has stepped in to offer some help.

They’ve already done one colonoscopy- the results were inconclusive, he needs a more invasive one, apparently. He also needs surgery on the hernia urgently, but they’re not wanting to address that until they know something about the growth in the colon.

He doesn’t want to talk about it, most especially not with his daughter. I can’t even get enough details out of him to really research, to fully understand. We had a major “come to Jesus meeting”, as snuggs would call it, just for me to get the above tidbits of information.

I can see how much pain he is in. They asked me to move in with them to help out, but then they want to shield me from the full extent of it. They should know better- after all, they’re the ones who trained me to have an inquiring mind and searching heart.

Head in the clouds or feet firmly planted on the ground, he’ll always be my very own Superdaddy.

sometimes, I only amuse myself

trilliann — 2006-07-10T09:07:50-05:00

Next year, I have really got to renegotiate my contract. Apparently everyone else in my department has an obscene amount of vacation days, while I’m only allowed five per year.

Once again, today I was the only person in my department in office.

It’s okay, though. I put up signs on their doors, guiding anyone who should need help.

On Terry’s door, “Terry is out. For assistance, please see Michael.”

On Michael’s door, “Michael is out. For assistance, please see Kim.”

On Kim’s door, “Kim is out. For assistance, please see Tracy.”

On Tracy’s door, “Tracy is out. For assistance, please see David.”

On David’s door, “David is out. For assistance, please see Terry.”

I know. Sometimes I only amuse myself…

unhinged

trilliann — 2006-07-17T02:07:44-05:00

Please excuse me, I fear my mind has come a bit unhinged.

If you don’t see me around, know that I’m not irritated, or on hiatus, or bored with the whole blogging thing, or any of the other standard excuses.

If you do see me around, quietly, don’t think I’ve permantly turned into a lurker, or I’ve suddenly decided to follow the maxim “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” I’m just not entirely certain of what might come out of my mouth (fingers?) right now.

Or, *gulp* if I do speak (type) something entirely off the wall (moreso than usual, even) please understand, my dear imaginary friends, that it’s not me speaking, it’s the bugs.

Haven’t abandoned you, just looking for the duct tape.

What's wrong with you?

trilliann — 2006-07-21T05:07:07-05:00

It occurs to me that some of you don’t know. Since I hate having things vaguely referred to, but thinking I should probably know so never quite asking while still wondering- I’ll give you the cliff notes version.

About five years ago, I was making progress on my goal of hiking in national parks in every state of the Union (28 so far) when I got a bad flu that never went away. Kept getting worse, until my list of symptoms was three pages long, I couldn’t walk without a cane, couldn’t function. After going to I-lost-count-of-how-many Doctors, and 11 different types of ologists (cardiologist, endocrinologist, neurologist, electrophysiologist, rheumatologist, otolaryngologist, cosmetologist… no, wait, strike that last one…) I was “tentatively diagnosed” with a variety of ailments, including (at different times) multiple sclerosis and shy-drager syndrome. That’s a scary one- no treatment, prognosis of progressive system failure resulting in early death.

Finally, after more than three years or searching (and even heart surgery) I was accurately diagnosed with Lyme Disease. When they catch it soon after infection, it’s usually curable with a 30 day round of antibiotics. Once it reaches the chronic phase, many people never recover.

It came very close to killing me, due to Doctors who were ignorant of the fact that the CDC guidelines for diagnosis state that Lyme is diagnosed “on symptoms, physical findings, and the possibility of exposure to infected ticks”- not based on the very unreliable blood tests.

Unfortunately, by then much irreversible damage had been done by the evil little bugs (which were found not only in my blood, but also in my cerebral spinal fluid- thus bugs in the brain.)

I’ve been responding well to treatment for a while, and my Doctor and I made the decision to start taking me off some of the harsh drugs, under the assumption that whatever good they were going to do had been done, and the side effects were getting too much to handle.

I was holding steady for a while, but now I’m in the midst of a fairly bad crash. Most especially, the cardiac and neuro symptoms.

Probably stress related. Spending all day Wednesday at the ER with Dad didn’t help, either.

My usual 3 second memory/attention span has been cut to about 1.8 seconds.

Very odd things come out of my mouth.

My mind goes off on tangents even I can’t follow.

But today is definitely better than yesterday.

Tomorrow will be even better.

I’ll be back to me soon.

Promise.

cultured?

trilliann — 2006-07-23T08:07:17-05:00

You know how I love cultural festivals. The chance to explore the varied traditions and history, and of course, the food.

How did I not know about this one, being held practically in my own back yard?

The Summer Redneck Games. Featuring such fascinating athletic competitions as Watermelon Seed Spitting, Mudpit Belly Flop, Hubcap Hurl, and Redneck Horseshoes (played with toilet seats and plungers.)

Obviously a perfect environment for my personal favorite sport, Freak Watching. (Please know, I use the term “freak” with the utmost respect.)

How is it possible that both this and DragonCon are held in the Atlanta area, and I have never been to either? (If you aren't familiar with it, DragonCon is a huge SciFi/Fantasy convention, and a big percentage of the visitors come in costume of some sort. As I was saying to edr , nothing livens up the day like stopping for gas, looking up to see a Klingon at the next pump. Or standing in line at the grocery store behind Lara Croft. Or accidentally bumping into a Storm Trooper downtown.)

Actually, how is it possible for these two festivals to coexist in such close proximity without the entire state spontaneously combusting?

Next year, I will definitely have to go. On a cultural mission, to increase my knowledge of and respect for such a fascinating historical microcosm of humanity. Of course, to truly gain an appreciation, I may have to participate.

Please excuse me, I have to go start training for Watermelon Seed Spitting now

sad but true

trilliann — 2006-07-27T01:07:21-05:00

I blame nomad for my newest addiction- check out http://xkcd.com/

Then you can blame me for yours.

Thought about editing it to say mindsay instead of livejournal, but figured that would be tampering with probably copyrighted art. So I didn't.

SmirkBoy and the Vet

trilliann — 2006-07-28T01:07:37-05:00

Normally, I am a very easy going person. To upset me, you pretty much have to be trying. Trying pretty determinedly, actually.

But yesterday, I came very close to beating a guy’s head in.

Well, slapping him.

Well, close to thinking about it.

I stopped to pour my paycheck into the gas tank, and an elderly man in a wheelchair came rolling up. From a distance, he called out respectfully “Excuse me, miss, I don’t want to startle you.”

Which I appreciated, I hate when people come right up behind you and make you jump out of your skin when they beg for something. Skin never fits quite as well after.

Anyway.

So, after he got my attention, he started in on the usual story. He was obviously crippled, claimed to be a Veteran, just needs money to get the bus back home to Louisiana. If I could help…

Soft heart that I am, I always give something. Yes, I know they’re probably going to buy beer or drugs, or they’re really living in a posh house and making tons of money begging, or they just need to get a job, or whatever arguments people give to make themselves feel better about not helping. I feel better if I help. It could so easily be me.

As usual, I didn’t have any cash, but I did have some groceries in the trunk. Asked if he was hungry and would like something to eat and drink, he very gratefully replied “Oh yes, miss, that would be so kind.”

As I’m rummaging in the trunk, another man approached from the other end of the parking lot, pulling out his wallet with a smile. He went up to the man in the wheelchair, pulled two twenties out of his wallet and made as if to hand them to him. The guy’s face just lit up with pure joy, and he called out “Hallelujah, I’ve got my bus fare! I can go home!”

Wallet man half reached out the cash, then said “Oh, that’s not right.” As with an evil smirk he put the money back in his wallet and handed the gentleman a handful of pennies instead. He laughed at the crestfallen face as he turned to strut back to his car, where his buddies were waiting, laughing at the joke.

My eyes focused on my walking stick, still stored in my trunk for lack of a better place to put it. Brass handle. Nice hard wood. It occurred to me that SmirkBoy’s skull would make a very good storage unit.

Fortunately, it also occurred to me that murder would probably not teach an effective lesson on the morality of insensitivity towards those less fortunate.

So I settled for bestowing on him the Evil Glare of Death, as I gave the Vet a sack of groceries and wished him well on his journey.

What would you have done?

shades of red

trilliann — 2006-08-02T06:08:04-05:00

Quick lunchtime trip to the cardiologist, as usual they ran an EKG. Apparently I have odd rhythm, but anyone who’s seen me dance could have told you that. For unknown reasons it’s always freezing cold in the exam room, even though it’s 105 outside. They make you strip down to just a little paper pretend shirt, then stick these heavy duty stickers on your chest. The stickers have big silver snaps on the front to connect the electrodes to, and little pockets of cold, gooey gel against your skin.

They hurt like heck when you rip ‘em off.

The technician kept telling me not to move. I gently explained that shivering is an involuntary bodily reaction to extreme cold, and may be exacerbated by nervousness or uncomfortable situations. Both causes could be controlled if they would just give me a blanket.

“You need to be quiet for this test, too.” EvilTech replied.

Finished, got dressed, got results and gentle chiding from Doc for being late for my appointment (about a year late, give or take. What, I’ve been busy.) Everything looks the same, so I swam thru the melted pavement (did I mention it’s a bit warm?) back to my car and back to work.

Got a few funny looks as the day progressed. Not terribly unusual, honestly. Checked my hair wasn’t standing on end, no lipstick on the teeth.

Finally, at the end of the day, a co-worker pulled me aside. Pointing at the electrode stickers which the tech didn’t remove and I didn’t notice, (two clearly visible above the modest scoopneck of my blouse) she asked “So, honey, who exactly were you hoping was gonna snap on to your chest?”

I think that’s a good enough reason to stay home the rest of the week, don’t you?

Baby Dell grows up

trilliann — 2006-08-03T04:08:22-05:00

Baby Dell is feeling very full of himself these days. Since he’d been at full capacity for a while, I finally broke down and bought a larger hard drive. Went from 30 gb up to 100 gb. All that lovely empty space! And I managed to transfer all my data to the new drive without losing or screwing up anything. (I may be feeling just a little bit full of myself, too.)

He also has a brand new wireless router to connect to, which I managed to connect without even calling tech support. Now he’s trying to insist on a new case, as apparently the drab black padded bag just isn’t good enough anymore. Spoiled little brat.

quick update

trilliann — 2006-08-03T05:08:25-05:00

Finally got the results from Dad’s colonoscopy. The large polyp in his colon is cancerous. Fortunately, it is contained to just one area, and hasn’t spread. His Doctor is scheduling a meeting with the surgeon, so we’ll have a better idea of the prognosis soon.

Presumably they’ll want to take care of that before the inguinal hernia, or the large kidney stones (one in each kidney) or the gravel from kidney stones lodged in his urinary tract.

He seems to be doing reasonably well, emotionally. Then again, he’s on some pretty heavy-duty pain meds.

hot enough to...

trilliann — 2006-08-04T02:08:12-05:00

As if there was any way I was not going to try this.

“Woman bakes cookies on dashboard”

Unfortunately, the article is very short on details. If the cookies say to bake at 350 for 25 minutes, how long will they need to bake in a 200 degree car? My dashboard is definitely slanted. Will the cookie dough all run to one side? Does she make her own cookie dough, or use slice and bake? If the latter, which brand?

Since the article was kind enough to give not only her name, but also the city and name of her employer, I tried calling Mrs. Fontaine for advice, but the number was busy.

Intrepid experimenter and cookie lover that I am, I shall fearlessly attempt to repeat her results.

Thus far, I have covered two cookie sheets in aluminum foil, shiny side up. Pillsbury Break and Bake cookies, spread evenly about 1 inch apart. Rather than fighting for one of the precious few shaded parking spots like usual, the car is angled for maximum sun to the windshield.

And I am trying very hard to wait at least 20 minutes before I go check on them.

(I’ll keep you informed by updating this entry. I know you’re all anxiously awaiting the results of this vitally important scientific experiment.)

Update: 3:15pm, outside temperature 97. I told two people at the office about my experiment, and now there’s a steady stream of people going out to the car to check on the progress. The dough has flattened out nicely and they’re starting to plump up a bit. I’m guessing another 30-40 minutes and we’ll have cookies!

Update: 3:42pm

Update 4:07 pm - Outside temperature 101. A valid question has just been raised. "Did you bring any oven mitts?"

Uh-oh. Hadn't thought of that...

Update- 4:15pm Cookies are DONE! I would've taken a picture of the finished product, but I barely managed to get them to the kitchen. Everyone agrees that they're even more delicious than regular old oven-baked cookies.

All gone, and Trill is one popular chick here today!

(I never had an easy-bake oven. I think I'm finally at peace with that.)

Let this be a lesson to you on why you should never leave children or pets in the car!

next?

trilliann — 2006-08-06T09:08:34-05:00

What should I attempt to bake in the E-Z Bake Auto next? I had so much fun (and so many enthusiastic reponses)to the car cookies, I've decided to continue in the experimenting. Maybe using some ideas from various solar ovens that other people have built. Not ready for anything with meat or eggs yet- nothing that might, you know, accidentally kill somebody (like me)if the temperature didn't get high enough to kill bacteria. So, it's time for you to vote. What should I try to bake next? Potato? Bread? Apple? Other ideas? You have 24 hours to vote. :D

random quotes

trilliann — 2006-08-07T12:08:59-05:00

“Not sure if the Sea is in my blood, but at this point I’m fairly certain that the Lake is in pretty much every other part of me. “- after a long day on the water, while discussing family history and debating the rumor of seafarers in our bloodline.

“Think I spent too long on the jetski. Now I understand why cowboys walk bowlegged.” – ‘nuff said

“Go easy, I’m not as brave as you are.” – said to me by my 16 year old male cousin, as we switched jetski drivers in the middle of the lake

“You know, you could not know anything about them, and see a picture of Simon and Garfunkel, and you’d just know which one was Garfunkel.” – Same boy, in a philosophical moment.

“Um, anybody remember which way is home?” From somewhere in the middle of a 38,000 acre lake, after the first distant lightning.

“Yeah, I’m good to drive. I’m still wired from all that decaf.” –proving the psychological effect of coffee on those who rarely consume caffeine.

We spent most of the weekend at my Uncle’s house on the lake. Much fun was had by all, but it hurt to see how much pain Dad is in. He loves the water, but this time he didn’t go out on the boat at all. He barely managed the hike down to the lake, for the hike back up the little hill he had to stop and rest halfway. Of course, it’s a really steep little hill. He has his first appointment with the Surgeon today, we’ll see how that goes.

It was some fun family togetherness, and the weather mostly cooperated with our plans. Big important plans of accomplishing absolutely nothing important.

Mission accomplished.

update: dad

trilliann — 2006-08-07T08:08:48-05:00

Dad's first appointment with the surgeon was today. If you're squeamish, feel free to stop here. I just need somewhere to talk about it a bit. Not great news, could've been worse. Because of the location of the cancer, there's a high chance that he'll end up with a colostomy bag. They're starting him on 4 to 6 weeks of chemo and radiation, hoping to shrink it significantly enough to not end up with that. After the chemo and radiation, he has to heal for another 4 to 6 weeks before they can do the actual surgery. I don't think I've ever heard of that before, but I'm really not that knowledgable about cancer treatments. Yet.

lexophiles unite!

trilliann — 2006-08-08T10:08:58-05:00

Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana. A will is a dead giveaway. A backward poet writes inverse. In a democracy it's your vote that counts; in feudalism, it's your Count that votes. A chicken crossing the road: poultry in motion. If you don't pay your exorcist you can get repossessed. Show me a piano falling down a mine shaft and I'll show you A-flat miner. The guy fell onto an upholstery machine, now he is fully recovered. Local Area Network in Australia : The LAN down under. A calendar's days are numbered. A lot of money is tainted: 'Taint yours, and 'taint mine. A boiled egg is hard to beat. The diminutive fortuneteller escaped from prison. The headline read "Small Medium at Large." If you jump off a Paris bridge, you are in Seine.

Ahoy, Gus crew

trilliann — 2006-08-09T10:08:19-05:00

Anybody remember who drew this?

Found a copy of this when I was cleaning out my hard drive, but I can't remember who drew it.

Why do we all have halos? Are we dead? Why is feenxc a bug/alien? Am I holding coconuts, or do I have really big boobs? Why does edr look like a dog? Oh, wait... nevermind on that one.

Aren't we cute?

abc's of me

trilliann — 2006-08-10T10:08:41-05:00

Borrowed from myclette

A is for age:
All of 29

B is for beer of choice:
Being honest, I've never really acquired a taste for beer, but I do like Fraoch Ale.

C is for career right now:
Call it more of a job than a career. General office flunky for a homebuilding company

D is for your dog's name?:
Don't know how many years it's been since I had a dog, but my last one was a beagle/basset mix named Emma.

E is for essential item you use everyday:

Eyeglasses/contacts. Without 'em, I can't see squat.

F is for favorite tv show at the moment:
Frankly, I've become a mildly obsessive fan of Doctor Who. It's possible my crush on David Tennant could threaten to eclipse even my love of my other favorite Scot, Obi-Wan Ewan.

G is for favorite game:
Grossly named little card game called "Scum"

H is for Home town:
Hotlanta

I is for instruments you play:
I studied flute for three years (bad choice for a kid with asthma.) Attempting to learn to play the bowed psaltry and the bodhran.

The only thing I play well is the radio.

J is for favorite juice:
Just love Strawberry-banana-orange juice

K is for whose butt you'd like to kick:
Keanu Reeves, because I haven't liked him in anything since Bill & Ted.

L is for last place you ate:

Late dinner in my car- I haven't had breakfast today.

M is for marriage:
Many say marriage is a sacred institution. I’ve never been institutionalized. Yet.

N is for your full name:
N is for Nope. Not gonna happen. Nuh-uh. No way. No how.

O is for overnight hospital stays:

Oh, so many more nights spent in waiting rooms than admitted myself. I've spent long days admitted a couple times, but only one week with the 'flu and strep throat that I was kept overnight.

P is for people you were with today:

Parents and co-workers

Q is for quote:
Quite a descision, I have a lot of favorite quotes. This week, "I don't get even, I get odder" -from one of my favorite tshirts.

R is for Biggest Regret:
Remember the line "Forget regrets, or life is yours to miss?" Well, I've never been so good at living up to that. I deeply regret that I didn't tell my best friend that I was in love with him for 5 years, because I was afraid it would ruin our friendship. Eventually he got married, and our friendship pretty much ended anyway. I could have spared myself years of pain if I had been brave enough to find out how he felt sooner.

S is for status:
Single

T is for time you woke up today:
Today, 5:30. Then 5:39, 5:48, 5:57, 6:06, 6:15, 6:24, 6:33, 6:42, and 6:51.
Curses on whoever invented the snooze alarm.

U is for Unicorn; Do you believe?

Unlikely.

V is for vegetable you love: Verily, nothing beats home grown tomatoes

W is for worst habit:Woefully, horribly, tragically disorganized

X is for x-rays you've had:
Xena I'm not. Name a bone, I got pictures.

Y is for yummy food you ate today

Yellow corn, black bean and rice salad

Z is for zodiac sign:

Zounds, I have no idea. Never paid attention 'cause I think it's rather ridiculous.

transgender cattle?

trilliann — 2006-08-11T02:08:03-05:00

Does the world really need animated gender confused cattle?

Recently I spent a pleasant evening at the lovely air-conditioned movie theater. A sense of anticipation built as the lights dimmed and the previews of upcoming attractions began. (Sometimes, the previews are the best part of the movie.)

Oh, look, a new animated flick. Lead character is a cow. Oh, sorry, must be a bull- voice is by that guy from King of Queens.

Then the… bovine stands on it’s hind legs. And it has udders.

All of the cattle, with male and female voices, have udders.

Is this social commentary from the filmmakers, a protest against the hormone injections given to cattle to speed their development into beef and milk producers, and the possible horrible consequences therein?

Are they perhaps attempting to promote diversity and acceptance of transgender and other “alternative lifestyles?”

Or maybe, just maybe, the artists are ignorant idiots who have never seen a real barnyard and have no idea that only cows, not bulls, produce milk.

No, surely not that.

I’m not saying that they should make the bovines completely anatomically correct, especially if they’re going to be walking on their hind legs on 20 foot high screens. R rated cartoons by Nickelodeon might just possibly be a step in the wrong direction. But there is a longstanding tradition of making animated animals anatomically vague.

There also seem to be scenes of the cow/bull taking part in portrayals of voyeurism,

driving under the influence, (of course, the tagline is "The Original Party Animals")

and, well… then there’s this promo picture. What the heck is supposed to be going on here?

the List

trilliann — 2006-08-14T04:08:27-05:00

I like checking things off my List for the day, so I make certain to include everything. Thus

1) Wake up

2) Crawl out of bed

3) Install contacts

4)Make coffee

5)Make breakfast

6)Drink coffee

7)Eat breakfast

That way, by the time I get to (8) Make list, I can see that I've already accomplished quite a lot today, and it's probably time for a nap.

I wrote this in response to AllAroundPsycho 's post today, then decided the only way anything was gonna get blogged here today was if I stole my own comment and reposted it.

Hey, look! Item (473), Blog- done!

laughter is the best medicine

trilliann — 2006-08-17T11:08:10-05:00

I’m a believer in the healing power of joy and laughter. Except for his Doctor visits, Dad is pretty much stuck at home, in a lot of pain.

A couple of very kind friends gave me some Blockbuster gift cards, which I’m using towards an account where they ship me dvd’s, plus one a week free in-store.

Here’s where you come in.

We’re gonna need a whole lot of movies in the next couple months.

What is, in your opinion, the funniest movie of all time?

Top ten lists greatly appreciated. Funny, sweet, heartwarming- just feel good movies. Or tv shows out on dvd. Anything that just makes you smile. (Preferably not gross-out humor, he doesn’t care for that.)

Many thanks!

random thought

trilliann — 2006-08-18T02:08:04-05:00

With all the time and energy I've spent dieting, I could have established a small, fat-loving civilization.

headlines

trilliann — 2006-08-18T09:08:19-05:00

Two great news stories

Organ donor cries foul- "My kidney is going to hell!"

Monks brawl at peace protest

remember

trilliann — 2006-08-19T05:08:41-05:00

Remember when I told you that you need to be a part of this?

And you went, and you looked, and you said "Cool! I do need to be a part of that!"

Then you saw the deadline of August 31, and said "Oh, that's a long time from now. Plenty of time between now and then to get around to writing/drawing/painting/photographing/whatevering something that says 'Hello.' "

Well.

August 31 doesn't seem so far away now, does it?

yes they arrrrrr

trilliann — 2006-08-23T11:08:25-05:00

News headline of the day- "Pirates are Cool."

About bloody time the media realized it, too.

three am

trilliann — 2006-08-23T04:08:30-05:00

All day long, I’m fine. The frantic pace of everyday life keeps the demons at bay.

Work, Play, Television, Computer, Traffic, Friends, Family. One crisis piles on top of another in an unending conga line of noise and distractions. Revel in the madness, learn to juggle or be buried.

But in the night, all the noise subsides. The darkness closes in, and one thought remains.

Cancer.

So much fear and pain wrapped in that one little word. At 3 am, it may as well be displayed in glowing red letters on the ceiling, a tangible symbol of all it entails. The whispers float thru the room, crawling in my ear and tangling my thoughts into a cats-cradle of fear.

Chemotherapy

Radiation

Long-term prognosis

Recurrence

Risk factors

Side-effects

I have come to realize that my experience with cancer has been much different from that of my parents. Several of my friends have had battles with this dreaded disease, in many different forms, and have come out the other side of hell, victorious.

But for my parents, most everyone they’ve known with this diagnosis has died. Those who survive continue in pain and fear, living awkward half-lives, still in this world but no longer of it. Even those who were told they had beaten it, no sign of the Big C remained, complete remission- even these have died, too weakened by the battle to enjoy the victory.

I’ve had my health issues for a long time. Learned to live with my new limitations, and moved on. It doesn’t define me.

But seeing my Dad in pain and sick- this, I am not dealing with well at all.

It’s probably partly the timing. It’s been a bad year altogether. We had yet another funeral in the family last weekend, one of my “adopted” Grandfathers. The seventh funeral of close friends or family this year. Emotionally, I am empty, used up. Some little superstitious being deep inside of me, who’s very presence I would like to deny, feels that if we can just get Dad thru the end of this year, everything will be fine. All the pain and suffering and fear will pass with the drop of the New Years Eve ball.

All day long I can smile, and laugh, and joke, and life goes on. No one sees the seed of fear living deep inside. Fear is a night-blooming flower, its noxious perfume cloying the air in my lungs, as its roots dig ever deeper in my heart.

But 3 am, it comes every night.

online petition

trilliann — 2006-08-25T02:08:12-05:00

I'm starting a petition to outlaw the hours between 2 and 4 am. Anyone found waking during these hours without reasonable cause will be put out of their misery.

Who's with me?

dream a little dream

trilliann — 2006-08-25T02:08:13-05:00

Had a rather odd dream once I finally managed to get some sleep last night.

I’m probably the only one to be amused by this, but I’m ok with that. (Well, maybe one other person?)

So, my dream was a full blown Doctor Who episode (tenth Doctor.) The Doctor has received an urgent message- the Face of Bo is summoning him, to give his final message.

Long and difficult were the Doctor’s journeys to get there. Finally, he arrives, as the much-weakened Face of Bo is breathing his last. Kneeling by his side, the Doctor feared he had come to late. Then, in his head, he heard the fabled Final Message.

“You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em…. Know when to fold ‘em…. Know when to walk away… know when to RUN!” As his eyes flew open wide and the glass shattered, I woke up.

Yeah, I think I need to cut down on the Brit tv before bed. Especially Blackpool.

Stop Planetary Discrimination

trilliann — 2006-08-25T05:08:53-05:00

You know times are hard when even the Solar System is downsizing.

gracias

trilliann — 2006-08-26T09:08:16-05:00

Apparently, giggling for an hour or so before bed leads to sound sleep and pleasant dreams.

Thanks, WTF Radio!

I'll listen to the first half of the show before I hit the hay tonight.

fifty shades of red

trilliann — 2006-08-26T01:08:11-05:00

It's nice to have one person who knows you completely, and still thinks you are absolutely perfect. For me, that person is my Grams. I was neither the first nor the last grandchild, I'm the only one who has failed to get married and produce offspring, but for some reason, she thinks I am absolute perfection.

Too much of that could be very bad for a person, but a little is nice. (Especially since I don't agree with her!)

Grams is visiting this weekend, so my ego gets a nice shine and polish.

My friend Joan lives in a nursing home- I'll write more about her sometime- and I try to visit her every weekend. Most of the residents there so infrequently have visitors, they brighten up at any attention. Over time, I've made friends with more and more of them, until now I have my own little entourage. From the moment I walk in the door, my train starts forming of wheelchairs and walkers shuffling along behind me to Joan's room. Grams came with me this morning. One of the ladies complimented her necklace. "Oh, thank you!" Grams exclaimed "my wonderful granddaughter made it for me!" Then the adjectives began, emphasis getting heavier on every word as she extols my virtues. "Trill is just so creative and caring and beautiful and loving and kind and wonderful and..."

The whole audience of ancients are nodding their heads in agreement as she gets louder and louder, and I embarrassedly try to reign her in.

"Ok, Grams, thanks, but that's enough. Really."

"But you are!" she exclaims loudly

I'm still trying to quiet her as she ices the cake.

"You're gorgeous! And what size bra do you wear? People say she looks like me, but my boobs were never that size!"

Fifty pairs of rheumy old eyes go straight to my chest.

And stay there.

Do you know, it's impossible to push a wheelchair with your arms crossed over your chest?

I'm trying to learn how to take a compliment with a simple "Thank you."

But seriously, there are limits

ebay is evil temptation wrapped in chocolate

trilliann — 2006-08-28T10:08:59-05:00

“Hey, were you expecting FedEx?”

“Can’t think of anything, I already got my PMP and I haven’t bought anything else lately.”

“Well, you got a box this morning. It has foreign stamps and a customs form on it, says it’s from England.”

“Really?! That’s odd. Who would be sending me anything from England? Unless…”

A faint memory starts to tickle its way to consciousness… “Oh, nooo……”

“What? Should I open it?”

“Um, no. Just put it on the table, I’ll open it when I get home.”

I don’t remember buying anything. But I do have this faint memory of a night of 3am insomniatic wandering on ebay. And it’s just possible that I bought…

No, I didn’t. Surely I didn’t. I would remember something like that, wouldn’t I? If I bought and paid for something like that, I wouldn’t just go back to bed and forget all about it. Of course not.

Except, there is a box waiting at home for me…

I could go to my ebay or paypal history to verify. But it’s more fun to wonder. And maybe this will encourage me to actually leave work on time, for once.

Any guesses on what’s in the box?

Or, any ideas on how I can lock the computer up away from myself and my midnight wanderings?

buyers remorse

trilliann — 2006-08-28T10:08:29-05:00

It's so much worse then I feared. Looked at the customs form, it’s simply labeled “Doctor Who.”

Well, guess I better let him out.

Can’t get the crappy video to embed, you’ll have to click on this link to see.

That's right, I'm now the proud owner of my own TARDIS bank and 2 inch tall remote control K9 tin dog. Even sleep-ebaying, I can't believe I would turn into enough of a raving fangirl to buy these... toys.

Fortunately, I can resell them on eBay. After I play with them for a week or two, of course. Or three.

On the other hand, my niece Hannah would love 'em. She's 14 months old now, so I might have to take care of them for her for a little while. 4, maybe 5 years?

random act of kindness

trilliann — 2006-08-30T10:08:42-05:00

In the waiting room at the Oncologist yesterday, Dad struck up a conversation with a random fellow patient. This is not unusual; my Father has never met a stranger.

As it turned out, she also had colo-rectal cancer, however hers had also spread to her lungs. She seems to have beat it, and was there for a routine recheck. Having already journeyed thru hell and back, she was in an excellent position to give him a better idea of what to expect, and help him see that the light at the end of the tunnel is not necessarily an oncoming train. He appreciated that, and apparently she enjoyed his jokes.

They parted ways when her name was called, with a smile and a handshake, strangers on different ends of the same road.

After his appointment, as he walked back thru the waiting room, he heard a nurse call out “There he is!”

The Nurse handed him an envelope. Inside was a brief note from the kind stranger in the waiting room. “Stay strong, keep fighting. I hope this helps a little. I’ll be praying for you.”

No name, but wrapped up in the note was $100.

He went back in and asked, but of course the staff can’t tell him anything- patient confidentiality. They did promise to pass on his thanks the next time she’s in.

The little unexpected windfall will help keep gas in his car for a few weeks, but the psychological effects of this random act of kindness are immeasurable. As he said, “The best part is that when friends and family call to check on me, I have a good story to tell them, instead of just depressing news.”

geek chic

trilliann — 2006-08-31T04:08:42-05:00

I’ve been battling with new software, attempting to convince three separate programs to communicate with each other. Last night, I decided I needed a break and took the time to do a long overdue office clean-up. (Ah, yes, my dear friend procrastination. How nice to see you again!) Every loose paper was filed or bindered. Writing implements were neatly organized by both color and type. As I rediscovered the color of my desk, I also discovered three doorknobs, various and sundry cds, a packet of African violet food, a Coldstone Creamery gift card, a handful of loose screws, my long lost paper-airplane-a-day calendar, and what appears to be some kind of motor. Stood back to admire the gleaming neatness and organization, promptly discovered that I couldn’t get any work done in these conditions, as I couldn’t find anything. Packed up and went home. When I walked in this morning, heads popped out of offices all down the hall. “You’re here!” “Of course I’m here. What’s going on?” “Your office was so clean- we thought you’d quit!” Ha ha. However, today when I finally managed to get the ornery programs to converse and share information, the newly cleared desk space provided an excellent platform for happy-dancing. Apparently the reason it took me so long is because my geek quotient has suffered a mysterious drop. Only 39%?

You are 39% geek

You are a geek liaison, which means you go both ways. You can hang out with normal people or you can hang out with geeks which means you often have geeks as friends and/or have a job where you have to mediate between geeks and normal people. This is an important role and one of which you should be proud. In fact, you can make a good deal of money as a translator.

Normal: Tell our geek we need him to work this weekend.

You [to Geek]: We need more than that, Scotty. You'll have to stay until you can squeeze more outta them engines!

Geek [to You]: I'm givin' her all she's got, Captain, but we need more dilithium crystals!

You [to Normal]: He wants to know if he gets overtime.

Take the Polygeek Quiz at Thudfactor.com

Does the fact that the illustrated conversation made me giggle for an inordinate amount of time raise my geekabilityness by a few points? I think it must.

yes, YOU

trilliann — 2006-09-03T10:09:45-05:00

Hey, WTF and theracket !

Some people actually have to work tomorrow(and are quite possibly in a foul mood about that) and would appreciate something interesting to listen to on the mp3 player.

Any updates on iTunes coming soon?

Pretty please?

plays well with others

trilliann — 2006-09-04T11:09:32-05:00

I was really not looking forward to working today. Dad needs me to drive him for chemo tomorrow, and as a non-salaried, hourly worker I can’t afford two days off this week. So, I talked my boss into letting me work today and have tomorrow off instead.

You know what? It’s fantastic. In fact, I may start pushing them to let me work weekends.

There was no traffic this morning. My usually hour, maybe hour and a quarter commute took 25 minutes flat.

No phones ringing. (Actually, it just rang for the first time and scared me silly.)

No Nextel chirping.

No emails from the field.

No faxes buzzing.

No heads popping in to my office “Can you do this? Help me with that? This’ll only take a minute…”

The tunes are crunk.

Today, naptime will be mandatory.

Rebel that I am, I’m even wearing blue jeans. Take that, company dress code!

Already got half a weeks worth of work done. Which is good, since my attention span is definitely starting to waiver.

Considered turning cartwheels down the long empty hallways, but haven’t thought of a good enough story to explain the eye-level foot sized holes in the wall that would be sure to ensue from the attempt.

truth in advertising?

trilliann — 2006-09-06T09:09:27-05:00

Saw a guy at Blockbuster last night, wearing a plain black t-shirt with one word scrawled across the chest in bold white letters.

“Available.”

I started to ask him, strictly out of market research interest, how effective this form of advertising had been. It occurred to me that the enquiry might be taken as interest, and I didn’t care for the movies he had, so I didn’t ask.

Later I started pondering, if the advertising works and at some point he is no longer available, will he get a shirt that says “Taken”? Beccause that message might not be as clear. People might just think he’s a Spielberg fan.

consider the alternatives

trilliann — 2006-09-07T05:09:40-05:00

As you’re strolling down the boulevard of Life, which is worse?

In the first scenario, you’re merrily walking along, minding your own business, when a piano suddenly comes crashing down and flattens you.

For the second scenario, you’re merrily cruising along the sidewalk, whistling a happy tune, when someone slaps you upside the back of the head with a bat. You’re knocked to the ground, but you recover. Bruised battered and shocked, you continue on.

Just as you’re about ready to begin whistling again, a brick flies out of an open window and gives you a black eye.

Put some ice on it and limp along. Still a lovely street, after all. If a bit blurred and wobbly.

You pass an innocuous looking alley, and a dead fish slaps you right in the face.

And so on. Hobbling along, it’s hard to see the beauty around you because you’re so concerned about where the next blow is coming from.

This is how my life feels lately. Bad news coming from every direction- some are crushing blows, some more of an insult than a danger. Life in general, but Dad’s illness in particular.

First he’s sick, and they find the hernia. “You need surgery, sooner rather than later.”

This is a shock, but one we quickly scramble back up from and carry on.

Then there is concern- the hernia doesn’t begin to cover all the pain he’s in. More tests, more worry, more tiny pinpricks of fear building.

“You have kidney stones that will need surgery, too.” Ouch.

“You also have a suspicious growth in your colon.” Slap!

“It’s cancerous” WHAM! Load of bricks comes crashing down.

But we recover, somewhat. “It’s localized, we can just go in there and scoop it out like ice cream.” (That would be the Doctor’s illustration, not mine.)

Then the next Doc delivers another blow. “The tumor is in a really bad location. We need to do chemo and radiation first to try to shrink it. The side effects are not gonna be fun. Even if it shrinks, you’ll probably end up with a colostomy bag for the rest of your life.”

Good thing he clarified that, because from all reports I’d heard before I thought chemo and radiation were just loads of fun. Don’t people do that for recreation?

“We’re going to install a port-a-cath, so you don’t have to get a new IV every time, and don’t have to come all the way to the hospital every day. It’s a very simple procedure, really.”

Ok, that doesn’t sound so bad.

Tease him about having new hardware installed, tell the Doctor to let me know when memory upgrades are available.

They knock him out for the installation- and have a very difficult time waking him back up. The Anesthesiologist is rather pale when he tells us to make certain they don’t use that particular anesthetic on him again.

The port-a-cath is a bit bigger of a deal than they would have led us to believe. He looks and feels as if he’s been shot in the chest. Being who he is, he still manages to crack jokes about the new tube emerging from his chest. “No place to plug in a usb, can you believe that? Some hardware upgrade that is.”

All along the way are the millions of hurdles and barriers to attempts to get financial aid. The mire of beaurocracy that bogs us down. “We will review your case after you have filled out all 879 forms in triplicate, with signed statements from your Doctors, next of kin, neighbors, mailman, and your third grade teacher.”

“Well, all of your forms seem to be complete. Only 87 attempts until you got it right, you’re doing quite well! We will review it and let you know if you qualify for aid. Expect to hear from our representatives by March, 2008.”

May I point out that I am actually not exaggerating the date?

“Thanks,” he says “I’ll either be better or buried by then.”

Then, because things were entirely too calm for at least four hours, he developed a sudden severe allergy to the pain meds.

Walking in to the cancer treatment center is another blow, every time. I walk behind him, and I see him stop, and sway a bit, just as he enters the waiting room. All these people, with different forms of the same dreaded disease. Some hobble by on crutches, others lean on a loved one for support- physical or emotional, who can tell?

Frail skeletons wheel by, bruised and battered beyond belief, still somehow clinging to life. Their eyes are dark and hollow windows to tormented souls.

Is this what the future holds?

If the blows keep getting worse, wouldn’t it be better to be hit by the piano and be done with it?

Straightening his shoulders, he walks to the registration desk. “Can we help you?”

“Yeah, I’d like a hamburger, large fries and a coke. To go, please.”

The laughter of the nurses rings down the hallway. Humor is in very short supply here, any attempts are encouraged outrageously.

Today they called. “We need you to come in for x-rays of your chest.”

Didn’t we do that last week?

“Yes, but the Doctor wants to do them again. He’ll discuss it with you after they get the results.”

Broken sentences and unfinished thoughts send us reeling again.

Coming Soon

trilliann — 2006-09-08T02:09:48-05:00

Beginning Sunday, I will be hosting a little contest here.

There will be prizes.

The prizes will be of infinitesimal; one might almost say inestimable value.

Get your creativity in gear, people.

do you know me?

trilliann — 2006-09-10T07:09:19-05:00

For no readily apparent reason, I'm about three quarters past brain dead today. However, I said I was going to do this today, so here goes.

So I have this incredibly cool random header thing, which is really just food for my short attention span. Refresh and you get another header. Refresh again. And so on.

But I'm bored with the headers I've been coming up with, for a while now. Ever since after the shiny ones, really. I'd like to see what you can come up with.

But I don't expect you to create brilliance for nothing. There will be prizes. They will be... different. I'll start listing them soon.

So, here's the rules.

1) Headers must be jpg images exactly 800 pixels wide by 300 pixels high. All headers have to be the exact same size for the random header thingummy to work, and that's the size I've picked.

That's it. That's the only rule. How well do you know me and what I like?

Have fun with it- you can use original art, or poetry, or photos, or famous images, or absolutely whatever you want. Go as complex or as simple as you want.

Any header I decide to use will get a prize, but I'll have one overall winner chosen by me, and one overall winner chosen by everyone else in a vote. I reserve the right to toss anything I really dislike, for whatever reason.

To enter, send your entry to makemeaheader(a)gmail.com

For the subject of the email, please use "Header Contest- your user name" So for instance, if I were entering, I would have the subject "Header Contest- Trilliann"

I won't open anything with a different subject line, and I'll be deleting this address when the contest is over. I'll acknowledge all entries so you know I received it. Deadline for entries is midnight EST, September 24th.

On your mark, get set... GO!

can't find the words

trilliann — 2006-09-11T12:09:42-05:00

prize number one- tortuga ocarina

trilliann — 2006-09-11T09:09:27-05:00

In the mid 16th century, rich silver veins were discovered in central Mexico. Boomtowns mushroomed into existence in the wake of the discovery. One such town, high in the mountains of the state of Guanajuato, is known as Pozos. Finding the area to be rich in minerals, mercury and copper in addition to gold and silver, foreign investors poured in, operating more than 300 mines. Pozos grew to a population of 50,000, and the city flourished. Architecture evolved from the simple homes to more and more elaborate haciendas, culminating in the building of a magnificent cathedral. During the glory days of a booming economy, the collection plate would be filled with chunks of silver and bags of gold dust. Eventually, the three story tall pipe organ and the ceiling were covered in a layer of pure gold. The light filtering thru the windows, reflecting off this precious paint, must have seemed to reflect the glory and approval of the Almighty himself.

Slowly but steadily, the mines began to dry up. Higher in the mountains, ever deeper mine shafts were created. Men were lowered in buckets on pulleys deep into the earth at sunrise, emerging only as the sun set behind far off hills.

Then came the Revolution. Foreign investors cleared out, taking their equipment with them. Inexorably, the boomtown went bust. Other cities diversified and continued. Pozos, too secluded and difficult to reach, slowly died.

By the time I found myself in Mineral de Pozos, the population hovered around 300 souls, lost in an enormous ghost town. The government no longer even acknowledges the existence of the tiny backwater- they have no police, firefighters, or public services. The church also turned its back on the town, refusing to send a priest where there isn’t money to support one. Still, the faithful come daily to their splendid house of worship.

They elected a Mayor for themselves. A good man, with dreams of seeing Pozos reborn as a tourist mecca. He took time off for the afternoon- he also runs the one tiny store in town- to give us a personal tour of the remnants of the town, and up into the mountains to see the mines. We lift a rock as big as my head, drop it into a mineshaft and count the impossibly long seconds until it hits bottom.

1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8THUMP

We try this 5 times, casting stones into the darkness, imagining what it must have been like to spend days in these dank pits.

Writing with a stick in the dust, I try to compute how deep these holes in the ground are. Using the formula vaguely remembered from physics class, of objects falling at 32 feet per second squared, I come up with something like 1024 feet. But that doesn’t take into account air resistance or the possibility of brush or something slowing the descent or faulty math skills- suffice it to say, I’m glad I didn’t trip and fall down that hole. ‘Cause it was really deep. (I’m sure someone will feel free to correct my math.)

Looking for new ways to make a living, he explains, the people have returned to the truly old ways, the arts of their ancestors. There is a tiny market- three or four booths- where they sell the traditional musical instruments, made with local materials and skills passed down thru the generations. Merchants come from nearby towns to buy the handcrafted goods, to resell in their boutiques.

That’s where this little guy hails from, the first of the possible prizes I’m offering. A clay ocarina, one of the simplest musical instruments, found in many cultures across the globe. That’s right, blow in his…. tail…. alternately covering the four holes on his back, and he makes music.

I promise to try to have better pictures for the other prizes- but this one has the best story.

prize number two- eiffel bling

trilliann — 2006-09-12T05:09:54-05:00

Originally intended as a temporary structure for the World's Fair of 1889, the Eiffel Tower is widely recognized as one of the engineering marvels of the modern world. For 41 years, it reigned as the tallest manmade structure in the world. Initially, it was met with resistance. Novelist Guy de Maupassant claimed the reason he ate in the restaurant inside the tower regularly, was because it was the one place in Paris where he couldn’t see it.

Gradually it won over the people, and now it is recognized worldwide as a symbol of the city of lights.

Stunningly beautiful, especially when lit up at night, it is mindbogglingly huge. However, it can be a bit difficult to admire the beauty as one stands beneath it, as one is constantly jostled and bombarded by trinket-sellers. Keychains, scarfs, postcards, squeaky toys- we fought them all off.

Until one guy came up and said “Hey lady, you want some bling-bling?”

In his hand was a glass figure, elegant in its simplicity, capturing the essence of the romantic tower.

Then he pressed a button, and it started flashing, alternating blue, green, pink. From understated elegance to gaudy brilliance, just like that.

I, of course, had to have one. Now you can too! Stands about 7 inches tall, flashy base included, but batteries aren't.

See contest rules here.

grey

trilliann — 2006-09-13T09:09:57-05:00

I love a rainy night.

Rainy morning traffic, not so much.

Easy-peasy Header Tutorial 1.0

trilliann — 2006-09-13T11:09:06-05:00

Header creator tutorial for the technology ~~challenged~~ inexperienced. As promised, for those who want to participate but aren't sure how.

This tutorial is written with the assumption that you’re working on a pc with a windows operating system. I could go into the reasons why I would assume that Mac or alternate OS people don’t need this tutorial… but I won’t.

We’re going to use a handy little often underrated program called Paint. Open your Start menu, then Programs, then Accessories and you’ll see “Paint.”

Play around with all the little buttons for a while, get comfortable with it. If at any point you make a mistake, click "Edit" then "Undo" to undo your last action.

Now, click “Image.” From the menu that drops down, choose “Attributes.” In that box is an area that says “Units,” from which you can choose inches, cm, or pixels.

Choose pixels.

For width, enter “800”, for height enter “300”

This is the size we want our finished image to be. Still with me? Good!

If you want to change your background color, click the paint can. Choose a color from the palette, then click anywhere on the blank image- it will fill with that color.

Now, if you only want to add words.

Click the Text button. A new menu will pop up, giving you choices of fonts, sizes, and such.

Click the area in your image where you want the text. This will make a text box- you can drag it at the corners to make it larger or smaller. Select your text color from the palette.

Oh, see those funny little boxes with the different colored shapes? That controls if you want the whole text area to have a white background, or if you want it to be clear so the background shows thru.

If all you’re doing is words- you’re done! Click “File”, “Save as”, Save as type jpg.

Remember where you saved it, and send it to me as an attachment.

Don’t worry about getting it perfect- I’m willing to tweak it a little to get uniform size and resolution. Just don’t have anything too vital at the edges.

If you’re doing this for your own header, you’ll need to host the image somewhere. Photobucket.com is a good one- free and reasonably fast.

Play with that for a bit, I’ll be back to show you how to add images. If I lost you at any point, let me know.

Easy-peasy Header Tutorial 2.0

trilliann — 2006-09-13T09:09:10-05:00

"But Trill," I hear you say "I wanted to add pictures!"

Boy. You’re needy, aren’t you? Baby steps, honey, baby steps.

So, you're feeling a little bit more comfortable with using Paint. Time to step it up a notch. If you're using your own original photos or artwork, you can open it using Paint, crop to the required size, and submit it!

Or, if you want pictures without actually doing them yourself- go to Google, click on "Images", then do a search until you find a picture you like.

For instance, let's say your theme is "Trilliann Rocks!"

Do a google images search for rocks. One of the first images that comes up is this lovely scene.

Right click on the picture, a new menu will pop open. Select "Copy"

Go back to Paint, on the menu to the left choose the perforated box- that's the Select button.

Right click in the image area, and click "Paste"

Of course, this picture is nowhere near the right size. No problem.

One way to shrink it is to go to the "Image" menu- remember, this is where we set the pixel size before- then select "Select/Skew"

In the "Stretch" area, enter what percentage of the original size you want. Make sure to enter the same amount in horizontal and vertical, unless you want it to skew.

Let's try 50 in both. Click OK. Poof, image is half the size it was!

If you go back to Image>Attributes now and type in 800 by 300 for the pixels, it will crop just the top portion of the picture to the right measurements.

What if the top isn't the part you want?

Still using the "Select" tool (perforated box thingy) click once at the top left portion of the part that you want. If you drag the mouse down towards the bottom right while holding the left mouse button down, you can select a portion of the picture. Then you can drag that portion up to the top left.

Still with me?

Good.

Ok, now click on the outer portion of the image- the box should move to include the whole image. Move your curser to the bottom right corner until it changes to a double arrow- hold down the left mouse button and you can move the size of the image until it includes just the part you want. (This is much easier than it sounds as I try to describe it.)

Now, if you want to add words, use the skills you learned in lesson 1 to add a text box with a clear background.

Just play around, have fun. If it gets to a point that you like, save it. If you decide you don’t like later changes, you can always go back to the saved one.

Voila!

Now that you’re all comfortable with Paint, you should really think about getting adventurous and using a grown-up program like Photoshop. Which is so much more fun. (And frustrating.)

But you’ll have to go somewhere else for that tutorial, because I’m done.

prize number three- disrespectful of vinyl

trilliann — 2006-09-14T11:09:26-05:00

You love music, and it shows. Your albums are alphabetized, first by artist, then title. Or maybe they’re ranked by a complicated system known only to you.

Nobody messes with your tunes and lives to tell the tale.

But sometimes, it’s okay to be a little disrespectful. Let that rockin’ rebel in you come out to play. Because once this bowl, made from a genuine vintage LP, graces your décor, no one will question that you are genuinely hardcore.

Even if it’s filled with bonbons.

The pictures are just examples- I won’t make it until after speaking with the winner. Extra crinkly or four leaf clover style? Polka or Bjork?

Made fresh just for you.

See here for contest instructions and rule.

Fluffy Planet

trilliann — 2006-09-15T08:09:40-05:00

News headline- Astronomers find distant, Fluffy planet

Sandyquill and I were discussing yesterday our plan to rename our planet Bob.

But the planet Fluffy!? I am so moving there.

Ok, so the real name of the planet is Hat-P-1. Planet Hattie is kind of catchy, too.

recap

trilliann — 2006-09-15T11:09:59-05:00

Such amazing entries already received in my little contest! I'm never going to be able to pick a favorite.

Of course that's not true. Yours is my favorite. You know I'm just saying I can't pick a favorite to make the other entrants feel better.

Thought it might be time for some recap links.

The contest- rule and instructions. Click here.

Prizes- top voted entry will get first choice.

Prize 1- Tortuga Ocarina

Prize 2- Eiffel Bling

Prize 3- Disrespectful of Vinyl

Prize 4- Pirattitude

Prize 5- less Disrespectful

Prizes for the Paranoid

Header tutorial for the technically challenged

Part 1

Part 2

wanderment

trilliann — 2006-09-18T10:09:09-05:00

If nothing in this world satisfies me, perhaps it is because I was made for another world.

-C.S. Lewis

Mom and I went to an arts festival yesterday, at an antebellum home that was spared during Sherman’s march to the sea because it belonged to a preacher. Not a very large home, simple elegance, but beautiful grounds. We enjoyed exploring the various crafts, watching the artists at work with their painting, needlecraft, pottery, and jewelry making.

Oh, the jewelry!

Such gorgeous works of art. So far beyond my pocketbook.

Some of my favorite items were the silver jewelry made from castings of real leaves and flowers; the hand cast clay vase, about 2 feet tall, that looked like a man in a tux holding a pocketwatch- no head, that’s where the flowers go; and the “one string plucking sticks,” the simplest stringed instrument ever invented.

We bought hand cranked strawberry ice-cream, sat on the grass in the shade and listened to the band. They were very good, played traditional style music. Leaned back against the hundred year old oaks, stared up at the blue skies, and for a few minutes, forgot about everything else.

One of their songs was based on the above quote from C.S. Lewis. Haunting melody, it’s still lingering in my mind.

We only stayed about an hour, because we hate to leave Dad home alone for long on the weekend when we already have to leave him all week while we work. He’s really not doing very well. His system has always been sensitive to medications, and the chemo/radiation has already been very rough. He developed thrush in his mouth, candida yeast infection, now he has painful sores all in his mouth and down his throat. No appetite and a queasy stomach, with that combination- especially the pain- it’s very hard for him to eat anything. The Doctor said she usually doesn’t see a reaction this severe until at least 2 or 3 weeks further along in the treatment, so they cut down the dosage by 30%.

The main thing the Doctor was interested in talking with him about is money. “Have you heard anything from Medicare yet? Your bill certainly is climbing up there.”

He discussed their situation in detail before he began treatment- no money, no insurance, no assets. The hospital made arrangements to write off most of the charges if the government aid doesn’t come thru, including the Doctor (who they assigned him to) and the surgeon, as well as the treatment. He’ll still be making payments for a long, long time, but hopefully because of the treatment he’ll actually have a long time.

There’s a reason it’s usually the office staff and not the Doctor who deal with the money.

Now, because he feels she’s looking at him as a deadbeat, he doesn’t feel comfortable calling or seeing her about his many side effects, doesn’t want to bother her. So he goes around too weak to function, dizzy and queasy, broken out in red blotches, skin cracking, in excruciating pain. I’m not certain that the pain pills really lessen the pain, but they do put him to sleep for a few hours, which has to be a relief.

In other news, Baby Dell (my laptop) needs surgery and will be going away for a while. Dug out old Bessie, my ancient thinkpad with a cracked screen- too slow and damaged to sell, but still too good to throw away. Still functional, but only just- so my ‘puter access at home will be seriously limited for a while. And I’m making an attempt at focusing on work while I’m at work. What a novel idea!

While I was writing this, I got a phone call that my “adopted Grandma” died. A very sweet old lady, who knew everyone in the community and their grandparents. “If you’re not sure what you’re doing, ask Grandma- she knows!” Her grandparents were former slaves, she was born only 55 years after the 13^th amendment abolished slavery. Everyone knew her as Grandma, no matter what the color of their skin. Not unexpected, she’s been in the ICU with pneumonia, but still another punch to the heart.

Oh, God, I just can’t take any more of this. I’m not strong enough.

prize number 4- pirattitude

trilliann — 2006-09-19T09:09:24-05:00

Avast, me hearties! D’ye know what day this be? Aye, this be Talk Like A Pirate Day!

In honor of TlaPD, I be offerin’ a fine prize to show your Pirattitude.

Every pirate needs sea chanteys to make the time pass. And ye best protect yer precious cds lest they be scratched when ye throw them in yer treasure chest. Booty number 4 in the Make Me a Header contest be a 20 cd travel case, with the Jolly Roger hand sewn on the front.

*The producers of this blog would like to clarify that this is in no way meant to endorse “pirating” music, which is illegal, immoral, and could get us into serious trouble. Arrr.

Scrimshaw coming soon.

Now raise a cup o’ grog (or orange juice, t’ prevent scurvy) and make me a header! Or plunder a good ‘un from some unsuspecting lubber. Smartly now, ye scurvy dogs!

Contest details here.

Links to all prizes and header tutorial here.

I really should’ve had a cuppa coffee before attempting to write this. Erm, I mean, grog.

No pirates were harmed in the writing of this entry.

no subject

trilliann — 2006-09-20T06:09:44-05:00

Two funerals in one day is a bit overwhelming.

That's really all I have to say for now.

update on dad

trilliann — 2006-09-21T03:09:39-05:00

Instead of having to go to the hospital every day for chemotherapy, they set him up with an interesting contraption. It started with a port in his chest- a line directly to his heart, so the chemicals are rapidly distributed thru out the body. (Chemicals=Chemotherapy. Amazing how many people have never thought that out.) If the line went into his arm like a normal IV, the chemicals would burn his veins. Scary stuff.

To that port they attached a long line, into a machine about the size of a typical hardback book. This machine holds enough chemo meds for a week, which it dispenses in small portions continuously. The whole thing fits into a small black belt pack. He was very self-conscious about wearing it in public at first, although all that is visible is a tiny bit of the line before it tucks into his shirt, and the black bag.

Add some Bermuda shorts, knee high black socks and sandals and nobody would even question the black bag, they’d just think he was some crazy yankee tourist. (Does anyone else wear fannypacks?)

Within 24 hours he started developing sores in his mouth and a red splotchy rash all over. This rapidly got worse, until he could hardly eat, drink or talk.

Believe me, for my Dad, the not talking is by far the worst of the three.

The Doctor diagnosed it as Thrush, put him on anti-yeast meds and told him to limit his sugars. And it kept getting worse. His lips cracked, skin is covered in huge red blotches, sores in his mouth and down his throat are so painful that tears roll down his cheeks when he attempts to eat or drink anything, even chicken broth or crushed ice. He’s weak, shaky, dizzy, disoriented. Huge red blisters on the soles of his feet make it painful to stand. From everything we’ve read, this is way beyond what should be normal for this stage of treatment. So Mom insists on taking him back to the Doctor- he doesn’t want to bother the Doctor, who has already made clear that she resents having to treat an uninsured.

Doctor says wow, that’s a really bad case of thrush. Let’s dial the meds back by 30%.

And still he gets worse. When we start hearing him having difficulty breathing, we rush him back to the Doctor.

Oh my, she says, that’s not just thrush at all. You’re part of the 2% of patients who have a rare life threatening toxic reaction. We need to take you off chemo immediately.

That was Monday.

So now he has a port in his chest with nothing attached to it. The blisters have started to go down just a tiny bit, but any improvement has been infinitesimal. He went to his chiropractor/homeopath yesterday, to try some natural remedies to flush the toxins. Within hours, the redness and swelling in his feet was almost gone, and the mouth and throat were down to slightly more bearable levels.

Still doing the radiation five days a week, other than that the only treatment protocol seems to be “wait and see.”

Prize 5- Less Disrespectful

trilliann — 2006-09-21T05:09:43-05:00

Sometimes, smaller really is better.

Witness the technological revolution. Computers you can fold up and carry with you, rather than filling ten story buildings. Digital music players small enough to wear as an earring, rather than crates of albums. Tiny cameras you can swallow to give Doctors a picture of your insides, rather than invasive surgery.

Sometimes smaller is better just because it’s red. Or if it’s one of the best bands in the history of the world.

For our next prize we have bowls much like those in Disrespectful of Vinyl- but smaller. Just the right size to toss your keys in by the door, or to hold a handful of rubber bands and paperclips on your desk. And in your choice of flavors- special limited edition red vinyl, or Beatles singles.

Don’t shoot me, the Beatles singles were already unplayable before I got ahold of ‘em.

Unfortunately, my computer is still in surgery, and I don’t have an sd card reader at work, so no pictures. I’m mentally beaming pictures to you, so shut your eyes and turn on your imagination for transmittal.

Tomorrow, I’ll be listing prizes for potential winners who aren’t comfortable giving out their mailing address. (Which also saves me on shipping costs, so it’s a win-win situation.)

Would you like to see a preview of some of the amazing entries I’ve already received? Would that inspire you? Revive your interest in a contest for which I set entirely too long of a time from start to deadline?

Or only depress you because you can’t equal their level of awesomeness? Because let me tell you, the bar is being set pretty darn high.

Contest rule and instructions here

inspiration

trilliann — 2006-09-22T09:09:02-05:00

Here (in no particular order) are some of the fantastic entries already received in my header contest.

Please note, I am not telling who made which one for a reason. When I post all the entries for voting next week, I would like the voting to be based on content and quality, not because you do or don’t like a certain person.

Although, I think I probably could have guessed who each of these came from.

Every one of these is meaningful to me, and I just get all full of the happies when I look at what my friends came up with.

Had to shrink them a little to fit here.

meander

skewed

who?

infinity

garden

chocolate

Aren't they fantabulous? Wouldn't you like to be in such talented company? Deadline for entries is Sunday, midnight EST.

Prizes for the Paranoid

trilliann — 2006-09-24T07:09:01-05:00

Prize options for potential winners who aren't comfortable giving me their mailing address. Which I totally understand. I mean, I'm not a stalker. (I tend more towards stalkee.)

But, that's exactly what a crazy internet stalker would say, isn't it? Obviously, I only hosted this whole contest in the hopes that you would enter, so I could deviously get your address and show up on your doorstep. Sure, some other mindsayers might claim to have met me in person. How do you know that they're trustworthy?

What I'm trying to say is that paranoia is my close, personal friend. Paranoia may claim to be your friend too, but I'd be suspicious of that claim if I were you.

As such, and before I get further sidetracked, here are some prize options with no shipping involved.

1) The Cure for the Common Cold

In Mexico, near the ancient pyramids of Teotihuacan, I met an old native healer women. She was part of a small tribe who still live by the ancient ways of their ancestors- possibly descendants of the Mayans. One of the many small tribes scattered about, they speak a strange language, known only to the less than 50 members of their group. They speak just enough spanish and english to occasionally come to market, to trade their produce and crafts for other goods.

People come from miles around to consult the healer woman, with her knowledge of local herbs. A rarity in this occupation, she never used incantations or spells of any kind, strictly herbs.

She gave me a recipe that she claimed would cure any cold. She also claimed that if I drank this recipe every day for a year, my asthma would be completely cured.

I can't guarantee it's absolutely accurate, since her spanish was worse than mine, and she spoke no english at all. Still, it's an interesting recipe.

2) Easy step by step illustrated instructions on how to make your own record album bowl. People keep telling me I should sell these- maybe you should!

3) I will deliver flowers and/or balloons to a local children's hospital or nursing home (your choice). Attach a note with an illegible scrawl (those of you who have seen my handwriting will understand why illegible is not at all difficult) and deliver them to someone who doesn't have any flowers and/or balloons

Contest rule and instructions here.

Deadline in less than 5 hours!

general update

trilliann — 2006-09-25T06:09:32-05:00

Poor old computer isn't cooperating, but hopefully should have the top ten finalists up for your voting pleasure by no later than tomorrow morning. Huge thanks to everyone who participated, I'm overwhelmed with the great headers you came up with. You people are fantastic.

And to those who promised to participate and didn't... I'm very, very disappointed in you. But don't worry, I'll get over it. Someday. Maybe.

Dad is finally starting to feel somewhat better. The Oncologist put him on iv fluids to help wash the rest of the nasty chemo out. He's finally able to eat, drink, and talk again. We watched the first DVD of Firefly together this weekend (I finally scrambled on the bandwagon for that one) and it was great to hear his laugh again.

I, however, have not been doing so great. Went to the Doc on friday, she drew a couple gallons of blood for testing and sent me for chest xrays. Testing for all kinds of stuff, but she suspects Mononucleosis. The kissing disease, they call it. Definitely sounds like it should be more fun than this.

Whatever it is, probably something I picked up in one of the hospital waiting rooms I've been frequenting. I had to miss our annual company fund raiser today, which I've been really looking forward to. This year we're raising money for a local shelter for abused kids. Nothing tugs the heartstrings quite like seeing a couple hundred big tough construction guys wiping away the tears when we present the big check to the charity at the end of the day.

However, it gives me a great excuse to lay around watching tv and sleep a lot. Which I shall return to presently.

killer teddy bear

trilliann — 2006-09-26T12:09:44-05:00

News headline of the day: "Teddy Bear Kills 2,500"

Instant mental image of a sweet brown jointed limb teddy, with red glowing eyes and a gleaming butcher knife.

Maybe a deranged psycho with the legal name Theodore Bear?

Click the link to find the expanded headline- "Killer teddy bear behind deaths of 2,500 fish."

Oh, fish.

Still, that's one mean Teddy.

vote early, vote often?

trilliann — 2006-09-26T01:09:12-05:00

Here are my top ten favorite entries in the header-contest-that-was-never-really-given-a-good-name. Click on the link at the bottom to cast a vote for your favorite.
This would be a good point for me to respectfully request that you don't vote for yourself. At least, not more than once.
Also a good point to remind you not to identify which one you created. Please vote according to content, not because you figured out who the artist is and you really like them this week. You're welcome to comment on them or ask questions, as long as you're reasonably polite.
So here they are Mindsay, in alphabetical order by the names I've given them, I give you the top ten!

bugs

chocolate

fierce

garden

idealism

infinity

meander

office pranks

skewed

who?

Header up!

Voting is over!

I've been tagged! (repeatedly)

trilliann — 2006-09-27T11:09:14-05:00

INSTRUCTIONS:

I’ve been tagged three times now, so I guess I might as well give in gracefully. Trust me people, I am really not that interesting.

1. Do the following WITHOUT complaint. (You whiny monkeys)
2. Choose 3 people or more to do this after you completed yours.
3. Leave a tag on the person's page to say he/she have been tagged.
4. Start your post with I have been tagged. then do this (copy and paste!).

FAVOURITES:

Favourite Colour: green
Favourite Food: chocolate

Favourite Movie: The Princess Bride
Favourite Season: Autumn
Favourite Icecream: Edy’s Grand makes a limited edition right after Girl Scout Cookie time, Mint ice cream with chopped up Thin Mints in it. Heavenly.

CURRENTS:

Current Clothes: Mint green sweater set w/ company logo, grey slacks, stripey socks (green, grey, and pink) and black shoes which are lost somewhere under my desk.

Current Desktop: Tulips picture I took in Central Park

Current Time: 10:59am EST
Current Surroundings: My office, wondering why all my African violets are dying all of a sudden
Current Annoyances: Tired, sick, and there are 27 boxes of parts taking up all the floor space in here that I need to sort thru and distribute
Current Thoughts: How long before anyone would notice if I slipped under my desk for a nap?

FIRSTS:

First Best Friend: Ashley B

First Crush: Eric H

First Movie: First one I remember is Annie

First Lie: Who, me?

First Music: My father had headphones on my Mom’s stomach playing the Beatles for me before I was even born.

LASTS:

Last Drink: iced mocha

Last Phone Call: To my sister, wishing her a happy anniversary.

Last CD played: Jack Johnson, On and On. Not helping me stay awake.

HAVE YOU EVER:

Have you ever dated one of your best friends: I usually have to be friends with someone before I’ll date them. I’m weird like that.

Have you ever broken the law: Um… technically….
Have you ever been arrested: No.
Have you ever been on TV: Yep. I did a series of interviews of older members of the community for GPTV when I was in my teens.

Have you ever kissed someone you don't know: Nope. Pretty sure I haven’t.

THINGS:

5 things you are good at: Listening, obsessing, wandering, starting projects, hugging

4 things you did today: Exercised great self control in not googling symptoms; tested willpower by looking at donuts but not eating any (yet); demonstrated unselfish attitude by not breathing on anyone (or the donuts) in case whatever I have is contagious; and for my most spectacular accomplishment I have stayed awake for 5 hours- in a row!

3 things you can hear right now: My mental radio (too loud) keys clicking on the keyboard and the printer down the hall

i am now tagging – the next three people who read this who haven’t already answered this one. Yes, that means YOU! Ha!

voting FAQs

trilliann — 2006-09-27T12:09:37-05:00

How do I vote for my favorite header?

Click where it says “Click Here to Vote” Do not click on the poll results box, that will lead you to a page to create your own poll.

Well, you can click that if you want. And create your own poll. It’s not like I’ve reserved exclusive polling rights or anything. But, if you’d like to vote on this poll, click where it says “Click Here to Vote.”

Ok?

Moving on.

Update- It no longer says "Click here to vote", because voting is over.

That just gives me a bunch of weird names. Where can I see the headers?

See yesterday’s entry. Click here.

Those are great! So, are there prizes in this contest?

Yep. See here.

Wow, I want to enter! Can I still send in a header?

Sure, send it to me. It won’t be eligible, though.

Aw, why not?

Because the deadline was last Sunday.

Can’t you bend the deadline, just for me?

Nope. Look, I talked about this for two weeks. It was even advertised on WTF radio. But the next time I have a contest, I’ll be sure to let you know.

Ok, fine. When does voting end?

When I feel like it. Probably Saturday-ish.

Who made these?

All will be revealed in time.

Can I vote more than once?

I’m ok with that, if you don’t go all nutso with it. So, if one entry suddenly gets eleventy bzillion votes, I’ll be a bit suspicious. I do request that if you have an entry in the top ten, don’t vote for yourself more than once.

Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t vote for any entry more than once. But if you feel that you must vote for more than one entry, go for it. Can’t fault you for that, I couldn’t decide, either.

The polling site says I can’t vote again! Can I vote again tomorrow?

Delete your cookies and it won’t even know you’ve been there.

Don’t make me regret telling you that.

Cool! So, um, how do I delete my cookies?

Cookie Monster! Grabsnarflegobblecrunch

Sorry about that. In Internet Explorer, click the Tools menu at the top of this screen. Then choose Internet Options>General>Delete Cookies

Instructions for lots of different browsers here.

I beg of you, do not make me regret teaching you this. Ok?

Ok. But, you still didn't answer my question about...

Ask and I'll answer.

how many kinds of crazy?

trilliann — 2006-09-29T05:09:59-05:00

My lovely Doctor has ordered me to strict bedrest until next Friday.

That tired little "Whoo-hoo!" you just heard? Yeah, that was me.

I intend to sleep the first three days. After that, I expect I'll probably get a bit stir crazy.

Stay tuned, things could get interesting.

VOTE OR.... well, you know. whatever.

trilliann — 2006-09-29T08:09:01-05:00

Please go here.

Pick a favorite and vote.

Voting ends tomorrow, probably.

Don't click on the picture or the poll box- click on the words "Click here to Vote" to vote. Any other questions, check the FAQs below.

hypersomnia

trilliann — 2006-09-30T07:09:14-05:00

Wow. I can sleep a lot.

Not well (we won't discuss the weird vivid dreams) but a whole heckuva lot.

If practice makes perfect, I am on my way to becoming an olympic class sleeper.

and the winner is...

trilliann — 2006-10-01T10:10:53-05:00

Voting has ended! Thank you so much to everyone who participated, it has really been fun. I never was able to pick a favorite myself. Well, that's not entirely true. I picked a favorite several times, generally whichever one I'm looking at that moment.

So, I going to have to go with the people's choice on this.

First place, by quite a nice margin, goes to the incredibly talented nomad , for her creation "garden"

Second place was a bit of a surprise, to both me and the entrant, as I know this wasn't her favorite of the 23 entries she sent. Miz "I don' know nothin bout makin no headers" herself, snuggs , was responsible for the icky yet somehow adorable and definitely appropriate "bugs".

Third place is a four way tie!

labsnabys , who knows my life philosophy "Whatever the question, chocolate is always the right answer", created the drool-worthy "Chocolate"

nomad also created "idealism". Someday, she's going to take me to that "Ideal Body Shop" and I'm going to see if I can get a trade in on a better model.

edr created the beautiful and delightful "skewed." Did you notice that water is actually flowing uphill? ;)

shiny , who enjoys feeding my obsession for things Doctor Who-ish, designed "who?" My next goal is to somehow bribe/cajoal/threaten Russel T Davies to accidentally slip this into the opening credits one week...

Dear momma hester submitted the stunning "fierce"which I may aat some point (don't read this, edr!) use as a user pic

hereruraisins29 used my tutorial to create the very deep, philisophical crosseyed "infinity"

Both Meander and office pranks were from sweet huggable snuggs .

If any of you would like to make an acceptance speech, explain your reasoning behind what you created, or share your techniques, please do so.

I'll be in touch about prize choices- although, of course, I can't get to the post office this week.

subconscious

trilliann — 2006-10-02T01:10:39-05:00

I know I said I wasn't going to discuss my weird dreams. Since they're taking up three quarters of my time and are definitely the only interesting thing happening right now, I've reconsidered.

This morning, I was Sydney Bristow, going to visit my Grams. On the way, I had to stop at this massive, five story tall Home Depot. Somewhere in this mega Home Depot is a Dentist's office, where I'm supposed to pick up a new toothbrush. Of course, no sooner do I get in the store than bad guys are chasing me, and next thing you know I'll balancing on rafters and packing a nail gun (with really long extension cords) on each hip.

And all I really want is a Krispy Kreme donut.

Even in my dreams, I'm still tired and achy and breathless.

So, you know, same old same old. Nail a few bad guys to the wall, escape on a turbo fitted forklift, finally find the dentist with the toothbrush, and head on to Grams' house.

No wonder I wake up exhausted.

And I still want a Krispy Kreme.

blah

trilliann — 2006-10-03T01:10:02-05:00

I imagined that I would be completely stir-crazy by now. Not only am I not remotely stir-crazy (although you might could add a few other kinds of crazy to the list) but I'm feeling a bit down that my week of bed rest is more than half over.

Wait a minute, what day is it? Tuesday?

Yeah, more than half over. Must face the real world again come Friday. Or at least the Doctor's office.

The lack of stir craziness is probably a good sign that the Doctor's orders were exactly right.

maybe just a little stir crazy

trilliann — 2006-10-03T09:10:49-05:00

Before I left work on Friday, a couple of my co-workers said "If you need anything- anything at all- give me a call."

So I figured, you know, people like to feel useful, so I'd take them up on it.

"What do you need?"

"Could you please go to Krispy Kreme, wait until the 'Hot Now' sign lights up, and buy me a donut?"

"What?"

"If it's too much trouble, I guess I could settle for Dunkin Donuts."

I'm still waiting, and they haven't gotten here yet. I don't know if they're still waiting for the Hot Now sign to light up or if they got lost trying to get here, because they aren't answering their cell phone.

Odd, that.

lost.... truly

trilliann — 2006-10-04T10:10:23-05:00

Oh happy day! Lost premieres tonight!

Um, somebody remind me what happened last season?

I remember a big foot with not enough toes, and WAAAAAALLLLLLLLTTTTT!!!!!!!!!

lost, still

trilliann — 2006-10-04T07:10:34-05:00

Well then. I guess nobody else remembers, either.

end of time

trilliann — 2006-10-05T01:10:05-05:00

Today is my last day of ~~house-boundedness~~. ~~House-bounding~~. ~~House-binding~~.

Today is my last day to stay at home.

I thought I would sleep a lot, but then manage to get a lot done- paperwork, research and stuff. Let's see what I've accomplished this week.

Watched the first three DVDs of Firefly, as well as a couple of forgettable movies and an unholy amount of Travel channel and HGTV. Read 11 books and a handful of magazines. Caught up on some of my favorite blogs. Restrained mself from buying anything online. Enjoyed listening to WTF. Slept a whole heckuva lot. Discovered that while I'm not at all bored, I am very boring if I don't go anywhere/do anything.

And... yeah. That's pretty much it.

Back to face the world tomorrow.

TGIF?

trilliann — 2006-10-06T07:10:50-05:00

Managed to crawl out of bed when the alarm went off, despite the fact that my body was cursing at me in four languages. Surprising, really. I had no idea I was so fluent.

As I'm in the shower, I hear the phone ring. Repeatedly. No one else answered it, and I knew no one who knows me would be calling me that early, so I ignored it.

Running (dragging) out the door just in time, and a work van pulls in the driveway and blocks my getaway. It's the guys come to fix the fence that the lightning-struck bradford pear tree fell on last week. That would be who was calling, letting me know they were coming today instead of Tuesday, as scheduled.

Run to the neighbor's house to get them to lock their dogs up (shared fence), get the guys to move their van so I can pull my car out. That was the plan, anyway.

Apparently it's been feeling neglected, because the car refused to start.

Maybe I'm not meant to go anywhere today?

Fortunately Mom happened to have the day off, and she generously allowed me to use her car. There are benefits to being back at home instead of on my own.

Absolutely gorgeous day. Somehow still managed to get to the Doctor on time, she was pleased with my progress and cleared me to go back to work on Monday. Of course, since I was already up and dressed and everything, I went ahead and went to work today.

Everyone was very happy to see me, they haven't fired me yet, it's payday, and my inbox was still at a reasonable level, so the day turned out quite well after all.

And now I'm going to take a little nap. For the next 12, maybe 14 hours or so.

How was your Friday?

torchwood

trilliann — 2006-10-07T06:10:54-05:00

I'm guessing there are three- maybe four- people on my friends list who will understand why I'm excited about finally seeing a preview for this show. Even though it's short. Even though it won't play on this side of the pond for quite a while yet. Even still. For you few geeks, (by which I of course mean incredibly wise and insightful people) here it is- the first real Torchwood trailer. My very first upload to youtube.

tragically indecisive

trilliann — 2006-10-09T03:10:24-05:00

As much as I love a good deal, I’m really not a fan of shopping in general. Especially not clothing shopping. Most especially not shoe shopping. Having been indoctrinated at a tender age by the cult of Cinderella to believe that large feet are hideous, I don’t like to draw attention to them. Really cute shoes stop being cute when they’re long enough to double as skis.

But winter is coming, and those who forecast are claiming it’s going to be a rough one- it might actually get cold for weeks at a time this year! The horror! And I have no warm shoes in reputable enough condition to be seen in public.

So, I ignored my whining and took myself boot shopping,

I have been fortunate enough to discover a couple of rather good shoe warehouse stores in close proximity to each other, which I can usually count on to have prices that won’t make me faint.

Not so this time.

First, no boots under a hundred dollars.

Which really didn’t matter anyway, because all of the boots, even the big furry Eskimo boots, had enormous heels. Completely illogical. If it’s cold enough to need boots, there is a distinct possibility that there could, somewhere, be patches of actual ice. The last thing I need is to be tottering around on some ridiculous high heels, hit an ice patch and break my neck. Seriously, I’m surprised they don’t make you sign a release waiver before you can buy those things. “I, the undersigned shoe purchaser, do hereby declare that I will hold Shoe Manufacturer to not be responsible for any injuries which may result from actual wearing of these shoes.”

Besides, I’m five foot ten. I don’t do high heels.

One last check of the clearance racks. Then, from across the aisle, I see them. Rich chocolate brown leather, as soft as your favorite tshirt. Knee high and, quite frankly, ridiculously sexy. Here’s the kicker- on clearance for $18. Love blossoms like the rose.

Try them on, and they fit beautifully. Stand up and … wow. I can see over all the racks. It would seem that the heels are just a teeny bit higher than I, in the first rush of love, estimated. Whip out my handy dandy measuring tape- four and a half inches.

Which puts me at around 6 foot 2 and a half inches tall. I’m ok with that, I tell myself. Absolutely. It’s nice for people to look up to you, right?

Totter down to the mirror. Arthritic ankles are screaming at me. “Shut up,” I tell them ”you look fabulous.”

Scrunched toes are yelling something at me too, but fortunately the leather muffles them.

Who am I kidding? I’m a pratfall waiting to happen.

But then, peeking out from the end of the row, comes a new temptation.

Pink. Suede. Chuck Taylor. Converse.

Pink Chucks! Begging for a good home!

Try them on, and they look absolutely adorable. Walk around a bit. You know, I’d forgotten that Chucks have absolutely no arch support. Rather like walking along with your own personal flat cement floor, actually.

No worry, I can take the liner out of an old pair of New Balance and modify the Chucks and have perfect personalized shoes.

Where I would wear them, I’m not sure. Nor with what.

Ok, must decide. Only one completely impractical pair of shoes at a time.

can’t decide…… brain imploding….

So I left with no new shoes.

Which means I still need to go shopping.

Darnit.

I could go back today and see if either of those are still there… but if they’re both still there, then I have a serious problem all over again.

update

trilliann — 2006-10-09T08:10:57-05:00

Sexy Boots were still there when I got back to the store. I tried them on again, and realized why they were clearanced- the left shoe was a half size smaller than the right. Tottering around on stilts is one thing- Tottering around in stilts with one foot throbbing is something else entirely. Creepy 16 year old sales clerk was eyeing me lecherously, enjoying watching me try on shoes entirely too much.

However, they had some new shoes in since my last visit. Briefly distracted by some really tall suede lace-up boots that I cannot imagine would look at home anywhere other than a Renaissance Faire, but then I found them. The Perfect Boots. Knee high, black buttery leather, and a nice stable heel just less than two inches. More comfortable rounded toe, too.By Aerosole, so very comfortable. And reasonably priced! So lost a couple of points for sexy, but up a bunch for stability, comfort, and actual wearability.

Besides, confidence is very attractive. Right? (she asked anxiously)

Sadly, the pink Chucks were gone. Since I now have my heart set on a new pair, I've been playing with the design your own feature at converse.com and may decide to splurge. Either that or buy the olive green ones at zappos.com. So much more practical than pink, don't you think?

butt burning?

trilliann — 2006-10-10T06:10:05-05:00

Dad called after his radiation appointment, in a very good mood. "Only four more days of butt burning to go!"

In the past few weeks he's gone from being too embarrassed to tell anyone what kind of cancer he has, (colo-rectal) to freely explaining to people he's just met (in excruciating detail) all about his treatment, and how due to the radiation burns going to the bathroom is "like passing a brick with spikes."

Since getting the chemo out of his system, he's been able to drive himself to his appointments, get out a bit, and generally doing pretty good.

Last day of radiation is Monday, then four to six weeks of recovery before they do surgery to remove the tumor. Possibly more radiation after that, depending on what they find duing surgery.

Nobody Expects the ... Inquisition!

trilliann — 2006-10-12T12:10:12-05:00

Four jobs I have had:

1. I’ve held 5 different jobs in six years for the company I currently work for –let’s just say Assorted Construction Office Related Jobs

2. Nanny

3. Tech support for Big Blue

4. Costume designer for historical reenactors

Four movies I would watch over and over:

1. The Princess Bride

2. Kate & Leopold

3. Bride & Prejudice (Also the Colin Firth Pride& Prejudice, and Pride & Prejudice 2003)

4. The Day the Earth Stood Still. I really wish someone would do a really good modern remake.

Four places I have lived:

1. North of Atlanta

2. Further North of Atlanta

3. San Miguel de Allende, Mexico

4. That’s it.

Four television shows I love to watch:

1. Lost

2. Doctor Who

3. Extreme Makeover : Home Edition

4. Heroes

Four (of my favorite) places I have been on vacation:

1. Kinlochleven, Scotland

2. Venice, Italy

3. Zion National Park, Utah

4. Kailua, Hawaii

Four web sites I visit daily:

1. Mindsay

2. Yahoo – email and Odd News

3. Get Medieval

4. Blingo

Four favorite foods:

1. Deep, dark, rich chocolate

2. Blackberries

3. Pizza

4. Home grown tomatoes

Four places I would rather be right now:

1. In a hammock, on a beach

2. Alaska, cruising

3. Anywhere with friends, talking and laughing

4. Exploring somewhere I haven’t been before

headline of the day

trilliann — 2006-10-12T08:10:24-05:00

Cat Cloning Company Closes It's Doors - apparently, there just wasn't enough demand for $50,000 cloned cats.

Which is a shame, really. Not that it's such a great idea, but it's one of the best business names ever-

"Genetic Savings and Clone."

deadlines

trilliann — 2006-10-13T08:10:54-05:00

Did you, or do you, have a list of things to accomplish before you turn(ed) a certain age?

Like, say, 30?

As of yesterday, I have exactly six months to mark anything off my list before I turn 30.

I’m thinking of filing for an extension.

PANIC!

trilliann — 2006-10-16T01:10:36-05:00

Are you sitting down? I have some very shocking news. Take a few deep breaths before you read the next line.

Cocoa farmers across Ivory Coast have gone on strike.

Ivory Coast produces at least 40% of the world’s supply of chocolate. This, my friends, is very, very Not Good.

However, in an effort to promote World Peace, I am willing to offer my services as a disinterested negotiator. In fact, as a proponent of the barter system, I am even willing to waive my usual fees charged for such high level negotiations, accepting product instead of cash. It is my understanding that 2% would be a usual and customary fee.

Forget your stupid wars over oil, this is serious stuff. Chocolate! On strike! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

no subject

trilliann — 2006-10-17T12:10:12-05:00

Dad "I'm really lightheaded today."

Mom "Well, I bought you that haircolor but you refuse to use it."

Yep, they're both nuts.

Dad's surgery is scheduled for November 21. I've heard that it's best not to be in the hospital over holidays, as they tend to be understaffed and those who are there aren't real happy about it. But we don't have much choice in the matter. Oh, well, maybe thanksgiving won't be as bad as some.

Five weeks and counting.

not as unique as some

trilliann — 2006-10-17T08:10:27-05:00

I would've guessed more, actually.

HowManyOfMe.com

There are:
202
people with my name
in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

epiphany

trilliann — 2006-10-18T08:10:36-05:00

At least five of my mindsay friends have posted results from the "How Many of You?" thingy, discovering that they themselves do not actually exist.

At first, I questioned the validity of the responses. Perhaps there could be a flaw in the system?

Then I realized, this actually verifies what I knew all along- you're all just figments of my twisted little imagination. I knew it!

let the games begin

trilliann — 2006-10-20T03:10:07-05:00

Hoping for good weather this weekend, for the Stone Mountain Highland Games. You see, while I love Highland Games in general, these games are special because 34 years ago, my Uncle Bill had a little idea that grew into something huge- he was the founder of the SMHG.

For his work in preserving Scottish culture and heritage, he received a medal from Queen Elizabeth II and was named a “Member of the Order of the British Empire”, which is about the closest an American can come to being Knighted.

Uncle Bill died unexpectedly earlier this year, this will be the first SMHG without him. So while most of the expected 20,000 visitors in attendance may not be aware of all he did to preserve our Scottish heritage while also benefiting his beloved home of Georgia, for those of us who knew him the weekend will indeed be bittersweet. A celebration, which hopefully will continue to thrive for many years to come.

ambushed

trilliann — 2006-10-21T08:10:39-05:00

If you see someone that you would like a picture of, there are essentially three ways to go about it. First, you can be obvious, act like a tourist, point and giggle, and take a picture. This is a good way to get your camera broken. Second, you can attempt to discreetly take their picture without them noticing. This rarely turns out well, as you end up with a lot of pictures of people's backs, or them making odd faces at you, trying to figure out why you are taking a picture of them while pretending not to be doing so. Or, you can put on a big smile and ask. "Can I take your picture?" Even more likely to get a positive response is "Can I take a picture with you?" This is the approach I went for with the two Knights Templar I saw today. They were immediate willing victims- people typically don't wear chainmail in public if they're shy. They grabbed their ale, each put an arm around my waist (pinning my arms down in the process.) As Ann was trying to remember how to work my camera, Red Knight leaned in and whispered in my ear "My friend here wants to ask you a question, but he's too shy." "What's that?" "Are you ticklish?" The answer to that would be yes. Apparently, even thru two shirts and a fleece jacket, I am very ticklish.

Stone Mountain Highland Games, Part 1

trilliann — 2006-10-21T10:10:39-05:00

It was a beautiful crisp, cool day at Stone Mountain park for the 34th annual Stone Mountain Highland Games and Scottish Festival.

Beautiful location on the water (with just a hint of menace in the air...)

According to Scottish tradition, every family clan has their own distinct tartan patterns. This began because the local weavers for each area would favor certain patterns and colors, and eventually these patterns came to represent the main family. Handy for the constantly warring Celts- if you know your tartans, you can tell at a glance if a stranger belongs to a family that is friend or foe. In modern times, businesses sometimes have tartans designed to represent their company.

This appears to be the tartan for Clan UPS Delivery.

At least 100 different Clans and Tribes were represented with their own booths, from McDonalds to Martians.

There is a huge variety in what people wear with their kilts- traditional to hippies to cowboys.

A man is never too young to learn to wear the kilt.

More pictures, stories- maybe even video- in the next day or two.

and the non-kilted knights still were friendly...

trilliann — 2006-10-22T11:10:40-05:00

Somebody was complaining that they couldn't read my shirt.

Better?

A bheil Gàidhlig agaibh?

trilliann — 2006-10-23T10:10:15-05:00

I wasn’t able to go back to the games on Sunday, but my cousin called to tell me about the tribute for Uncle Bill.

“It was all grey and cold and cloudy, and the bands gathered on the athletic field while they gave a speech all about him. Then they announced that they were starting a scholarship in his name, and then the bands all started playing ‘Amazing Grace’.

Starting right there over the field, the clouds broke up and the sun was shining all of a sudden.

*pause*

It was kinda creepy.”

There must have been at least 20 different pipe and drum marching bands, who all gather on the field at the end of the day for the Massed Bands. I only got a smalll part of them in the picture- it was amazing. When the drums play, it feels like thunder.

My favorite performer was acclaimed fiddler Alasdair Fraser. Playing with him was a very pretty lady in a lace blouse, short skirt and strategically placed cello.

They encouraged the audience to get up and dance, which began sedately enough.

But before long, things got a bit crazy.

It culminated in some Scottish Limbo. Sorry, no pictures of that- hard to get pictures when you’re smack in the thick of it. All I got was one last picture as I sprawled out on the grass and tried to catch my breath.

No Excuses

trilliann — 2006-10-24T05:10:52-05:00

On Sunday, I set for myself a firm resolution, backed up with a stern self talking-to.

I will get back to a regular exercise schedule. As long as I'm paying for the gym, I am going to use it. Absolutely.

Sunday night, I managed to distract myself and stay up just a wee bit past what might strictly be considered a reasonable bedtime. Crawled into bed at twelve thirty-ish, but still set the alarm for five.

Monday morning, I woke up shivering. What time is it, and why is it so cold in here?

Ah. The power went out.

Fortunately, the shivering woke me up by 7:30- half an hour after I'm supposed to leave for work, but still much earlier than I would expect to have slept without an alarm. Scramble around for flashlight, matches and candles, quick cold dark shower and hit the road.

But Wednesday... Wednesday I am definitely going to restart my exercise program. Absolutely.

spamalicious

trilliann — 2006-10-25T09:10:42-05:00

Absolutely gorgeous sunrise today, lasted most of the morning commute. Like driving thru cotton candy. We're going to candy mountain!

Got to the office, and my first email of the day is some transcendental spam that I found particularly interesting.

"Now and then, a power drill pees on another spider. A blotched polar bear takes a coffee break, and a prime minister living with a spider brainwashes a shabby salad dressing. When you see some dust bunny defined by the photon, it means that a nation daydreams."

Who writes this stuff? What are they on? And where can I get some?

repeat as necessary

trilliann — 2006-10-26T05:10:27-05:00

grumble mumble gripe moan grumble

YELL SCREAM CRY RAGE RANT

snivel whine fuss grouse carp bellyache

grumble mumble gripe moan grumble

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

dark ages

trilliann — 2006-10-27T11:10:36-05:00

It’s amazing how complete silence can wake you out of a deep sleep as suddenly as a loud noise. All the background noise that’s such a part of modern life pauses, and the world seems to hold it’s breath.

They’re widening the road near my house, and somehow from this they keep knocking the electricity out. Every day this week we’ve lost power several times- sometimes it just flickers, sometimes for a couple hours. I’ve quit resetting the clocks. I’ve also decided that there are entirely too many electronics that feel the need to give a self-satisfied “beep!” every time they turn back on. Questions of the Week from WTF last week is beginning to feel a bit like foreshadowing.

Every time the lights go out, the cable is knocked out for a while longer- so I’ve had no internets, phone or tv at home most of the week.

Which has been frustrating, but also rather peaceful, actually. (Just don’t tell me what happened on Lost before I get to see it, or I will have to hurt you.)

When the power goes out in the middle of the night, the sudden hush is so complete I can almost hear the breathing of the trees. If it were summer there would be crickets, birds, tree frogs. Now the only sounds are the beasties that go bump in the night.

Too quiet to sleep, so I bundle up and wander outside. With no electric lights for at least a mile, the stars shine brilliantly even thru the grey, threatening clouds. The silence is deafening, until a gentle rain begins to drum a lullaby.

Back to sleep, where silent dreams keep me company ‘til dawn breaks once more.

searching

trilliann — 2006-10-30T09:10:20-05:00

by cartoonist Patrick Chappatte

best laid plans

trilliann — 2006-10-31T07:10:06-05:00

How do I get myself into these things? Plans had already been made for me this weekend. I had been clearly informed that I was to spend the weekend assisting Dee with her newest Public Service Project, tentatively known as "Trill Gets a Social Life."

Instead, I somehow find that I will be chauffering and entertaining three 70 something year old ladies. As far as I can recall, here's what happened. Grams was speaking wistfully of how much she'd like to go to the mountains, to see the fall colors. "Why don't you come here for the weekend?" I hear myself saying "I'll take you to the mountains."

Figuring we can spend a couple hours doing that, get some quality Grams time, and then I can still make Dee happy.

Grams starts calling her friends, bragging about what a wonderful granddaughter she has. Friends get jealous. Grams invites them to join us- for the whole weekend. Grams then calls me and informs me of the change of plans. Things get more complicated from there. I have not yet let Dee know. *gulp*

It's going to be a very long and interesting Saturday. Hopefully resulting in some good new stories.

only the news you need

trilliann — 2006-11-01T01:11:35-05:00

Because your cholesterol is dangerously low- deep fried coca-cola

Can’t find the time to make that pilgrimage yourself? Now you can Rent-A-Pilgrim!

Feel free to dress up as a witch, warlock, zombie or psychotic serial killer- but if you dress as someone really scary, people will be offended.

Batman comes to the rescue of small Georgia town. The villains? "They're perpetual crap machines."

I’m torn on this- should they have given him the Spongbob toy as a reward for staying so calm- or were they right to not give it to him, as punishment for crawling where he shouldn’t have? I’m inclined to think the kid has talent they should encourage.

300 years later, Blackbeard’s ship the Queen Anne’s Revenge is being excavated- finding some… erm… very interesting medical tools.

ink blot test results

trilliann — 2006-11-01T10:11:34-05:00

blognapped from.... a bunch of people. Why? To keep the peace, apparently.

Trilliann, your subconscious mind is driven most by Peace

You have a deeply-rooted desire to make peace in the world. Whether through subtle interactions with loved ones, or through getting involved in social causes, it is important to you to be able to influence the world in a positive way.

You have a deep respect for humankind. You care about the future of the world, even beyond your own involvement in it, and you inspire others to feel the same way. Your innate drive toward peace guides you in daily life towards decisions that are respectful toward yourself and others.

Your psyche is very rich; the more you learn about it, the more you will understand who you really are.

Take the Tickle.com Ink Blot Test

requiem

trilliann — 2006-11-02T10:11:14-05:00

Remember, boys and girls- smoke kills.

And being charged with a traffic infraction in Hawaii may be very bad for your career.

orphan

trilliann — 2006-11-03T12:11:47-05:00

A huge red-tailed hawk swooped over the office this morning, circling, spinning and generally showing off for a while before he flew off to find somewhere more interesting. An hour or so later, one of our employees shivering outside for a smoking break reported hearing a strange mewling sound coming from the bushes. Investigating further, he found a tiny baby kitten, all alone. I’d guess it’s about 4 weeks old- too small to be away from Mama Cat. Too small to have gotten there by herself, too. Shaking like a leaf in the wind, and crying her poor little heart out.

We rushed her inside, bundled up to get warm, convinced her to drink some water by putting drops on our fingers and holding them to her mouth. BIG debate over whether or not kittens should drink cow milk. One kind-hearted girl has bonded with her, and took her to the emergency pet clinic. She doesn’t seem to be injured; hopefully she can be bottle-fed and thrive.

But the big mystery is…. Where did she come from? We aren’t close enough to the road to imagine someone dumped her out of a car. We’ve searched the bushes, no sign of a Mama cat or other kittens. She seems to be used to people, definitely likes to cuddle, so she doesn’t seem to be feral.

Popular theory going around is that the red-tailed hawk grabbed her from somewhere nearby and dropped her. But if that were the case, wouldn’t she be all scratched up?

My (admittedly not very popular) theory is that she stumbled here thru a rift in the space-time continuum. Really, what else would adequately explain how she showed up out of nowhere with no visible injuries? Only logical, really.

orphan update

trilliann — 2006-11-03T09:11:04-05:00

Lil' orphan has been named Mia (because that's what she kept saying.) I suggested she should be named Annie, especially since the girl who adopted her has another kitten named Oliver. She had been thinking about getting a second kitten to keep him company, so it was quite a fortunate coincidence, her landing on our doorstep like that.

The Vet checked her out, ran lots of tests and she passed with flying colors. He thinks she's probably closer to five weeks old- old enough that she can eat soft food, so she won't have to be bottle fed. She was much happier once she got some food, and finally stopped shaking. The only problem he found with her is a series of small lumps in her throat- probably swollen puncture wounds, he said. Should be fine in a day or two. Makes the idea that the hawk dropped her seem more likely.

Poor baby. Not many cats get to fly and live to tell about it.

what do you want on your tombstone?

trilliann — 2006-11-07T10:11:04-05:00

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Which reminds me of something one of my favorite NRL's sent me recently-

I refuse to join your cult

trilliann — 2006-11-12T06:11:53-05:00

Celebrities of the world, I have a message for you.

If you can act, transform yourself

If you can write, transport me

If you can direct, show me the world thru your eyes

If you can sing, bring harmony

If you can make music, enthrall me

If you have talent, show me

Because I don't care what car you drive, what label decorates your clothing, who you date, which religion you follow, how big your house is, who your family was, which politician you endorse, what brand soda you drink, or who is paying you enough to have you pretend to like their brand of anything.

Display true talent, use the gifts you have been given, and I will follow where you lead. To magical lands, other worlds, true stories of love and loss and longing.

But I will not join your cult.

swords into... goblets?

trilliann — 2006-11-14T09:11:52-05:00

The prophecy recorded at Isaiah 2:4 says "and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore. "

While I haven't turned any weapons of war into gardening tools, I did manage to turn this

into four of these

plus two matching platters and a stunning pitcher.

Cool trick, hunh?

You see, I'm a sweepstakes junkie. I've won several things, but the strangest was when I got a call that I'd won a sword. A spiral swept-hilt rapier. Well. That'll be useful, won't it? Several of my friends were quite upset when I decided to take a gift certificate instead of the sword.

"What, exactly" I asked "would I do with it?"

"Erm... you could hang it on the wall!"

"Doesn't exactly go with my decor."

"I know! You could trim the hedges with it!!!"

"Right. Because the neighbors just don't think I'm odd enough yet."

My tableware is stunning, and I've never regretted the decision. Well, only briefly, when I had hedges that needed trimming. (or a neighbor that needed killing.)

grumbling

trilliann — 2006-11-15T08:11:24-05:00

Remember last month or so, when my lymph nodes were all swollen and I was terribly horribly painfully tired and the Doctor thought I had mono, but then the tests said I didn't, so she put me on a week of bed rest and whatever it was got better?

It's back.

And I'm really tired of blogging about negative things. Aren't ya'll completely sick of me yet? I know I am.

So I'm off to bed now. Going to the otolaryngologist tomorrow. Doesn't that sound like fun boys and girls?

because I said so

trilliann — 2006-11-17T09:11:40-05:00

The O'Doc didn't give me a clue as to what he suspects, but he's sending me for a CAT scan of my throat on Monday. I tried explaining (with a grin and a wink) that a Cat scan probably wasn't a good idea, since I'm allergic to cats.

He very seriously assured me that no actual cats were involved, then went into a detailed explanation. Even after I told him I was joking.

Why can I never find a Doctor with a sense of humor, even for admittedly corny jokes? Is it AMA regulations that they must have it surgically removed before they get their license?

Anyway, I'm feeling some better today. I fully expect to feel great this weekend; by Monday there will be no sign of swelling at all.

However, when I wake up Tuesday (after the scan) there will once again be golf balls in my neck.

In other news. Dad is even more freaked out than I realized at the prospect of living the rest of his life with a colostomy bag. So freaked out, in fact, that he has decided to delay his surgery indefinitely while he pursues alternative medicine options. He’s meeting with the Doctor today to discuss, and he says he hasn’t made up his mind yet- but he has.

I’m not entirely certain how I feel about it.

A rather loud and insistent part of me has a purely emotional reaction. “Cancer is evil. Cut it out! Take whatever else you have to take, just get rid of it.”

Another part of me- a bit quieter, somewhat reasonable- can acknowledge that with the alternative treatments, the tumor has been shrinking. He’s been feeling pretty good. It hasn’t spread. No way of knowing how much is attributable to the treatments, of course.

We’ve been intensely debating, back and forth. Mom really wants him to go ahead with the surgery, she’s stressed and frightened. Trying to allow him to make his own choices, knowing he would be miserable if he didn’t feel he had pursued every reasonable option first.

It’s difficult to adjust my mindset. My life has been scheduled around November 21st for so long now- pre surgery and post. Everything I’ve planned or turned down has been based on that timing. Which is no reason to go thru with it, just a difficult adjustment. Even while we knew the surgery is dangerous, all kinds of things could go wrong, it would be a huge lifestyle adjustment afterwards- still, that was the marker we looked at.

Now we’re back in the mysterious land of Who Knows?

The one thing I’m focusing on, that I keep reminding myself of, is that it has to be his choice. Whatever treatment he pursues, he’s not giving up.

But deep inside, I’m still only three years old, and I just want my Daddy to hold me and tell me everything is going to be ok.

And because he said so, it will be.

kindred spirit

trilliann — 2006-11-17T02:11:15-05:00

you need a cold shower

trilliann — 2006-11-18T04:11:16-05:00

If you live in Eastern North America, the Leonids meteor shower are expected to peak tonight around 11:45 pm EST. So named because they appear to come flying from the constellation Leo, the meteor shower always picks this cold time of year to dance across the sky.

If you can find somewhere removed from ambient lights, you may be able to see a peak of 100 to 150 "shooting stars" per hour. Telescopes and binoculars are no help, because there's no way of knowing where the next one will appear. Bundle up, cradle a hot cuppa coffee, lay back and enjoy the beauty of the night.

Don't expect to see the sky lit up with balls of flame, most likely you'll see tiny streaks of light once every minute or two. Often, because of the way the human eye perceives light, they can actually be seen better out of the corner of your eye than if you stare directly at them. I once understood this well enough to explain it, but not today.

Because of a variety of factors, we're in a prime position to see some earth-skimmers in the low horizon, which do appear to be bright balls of flame racing across the sky. Even one of those is well worth braving the cold and lack of sleep.

Should still be a higher than normal amount of meteors for a few nights, and Monday night might actually be even better visibility, as there will be no moon shining its bright gaudy light, stealing the attention.

There are several articles with more info at space.com

Enjoy the show, and let me know if you see any strange lights in the sky.

star gazing

trilliann — 2006-11-19T04:11:08-05:00

Before the big show, we went to the movies. I think it's actually only the fourth movie I've seen in theater this year, which is really sad since I love going to the movies. The whole experience- the smell and sound of popcorn popping, analysing the movie posters, the sense of anticipation as the lights dim, rating the previews of upcoming attractions, completely forgetting what movie I'm there to see by the time it actually starts...

Actually, I'm so out of touch that I had no idea what might be playing.

"Let's see A Good Year", Ann says.

To which I replied, somewhat perplexed "They made a movie about tires?"

So I tried to forget for a couple hours that Russell Crowe is a jerk, and just enjoyed the flick. As recently stated, I could enjoy entertainment so much more if I didn't know anything about the real personalities of the entertainers.

Overall, it was somewhat predictable but still quite enjoyable. Very sweet. Absolutely gorgeous scenery. (And I'm not referring to Russell Crowe. Not entirely. Really. )

Later, I went to my favorite deserted cow pasture, with no ambient lights nearby or trees to block my view, to enjoy the Leonids. No cloud cover but still a bit foggy, so not exactly spectacular. But I still saw 16 meteorites in an hour, so overall it was a very good night.

bemused

trilliann — 2006-11-20T09:11:27-05:00

Oh, look, there it is. I knew it must be around here somewhere, now I’ve finally found it.

The end of my rope.

hunh.

breaking news

trilliann — 2006-11-20T02:11:52-05:00

This just in- rumored sightings of strange objects floating from the heavens have just been confirmed. Our keen-eyed observers have identified the objects as the elusive “snowflake. “

Thus far, at least 5 of these “snowflakes” have been witnessed.

Experts recommend that individuals in the affected area go home immediately, stopping only at the grocery store to buy bread, milk, beer and pet food. We would like to take this opportunity to remind you that it is legally required that you purchase all of these items, even if you don’t drink beer or have pets.

Wow, big day for me. First I got pictures taken of my insides, now I’ve seen snow! They gave me a CD with the images from the CT scan. Me, in slices, from my shoulders up to my eyeballs.

No idea what I’m looking at, but it’s still fascinating. If you flip thru the pictures fast enough, you can actually watch my brain implode.

I give, You give, We all give

trilliann — 2006-11-21T08:11:35-05:00

Whole lot of shopping going on this time of year. Would you like to be able to designate a percentage of every dollar you spend to be donated to the charity of your choice? You can. You can help out a charity without spending an extra penny.

If that isn't the lazy way towards good deeds, I don't know what is.

Here's how. Go to this link, for IGive.

When you sign up, a $5 donation will be made to your charity.

Then, every time you shop online, take an extra couple seconds to go to the IGive website first, and access the store website thru there. Over 600 stores are currently participating, different percentages from each one.

You can also download the "shopping window." This way you don't have to remember to go to IGive first, when you go to a participating store, it will automatically redirect to the link so a percentage goes to your charity. Just that easy.

You do have to give an email address to sign up- but I've been a member almost a year, I created a new email address just for this to track if they shared my address with anyone. They send a newsletter ever so often, detailing new stores or which stores are running specials for extra donations. That's it. No other email sent to that address, ever.

When you first sign up, your default charity of choice will be my new pick, Lyme Network. When I was first diagnosed with lyme disease, after years of traveling to different Doctors and being drained of quarts of blood for testing, I had conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I was so relieved to finally have a diagnosis. On the other hand, I had so many more questions than answers. Lyme Net has been a fantastic source of information and support.

Easy enough to change to whatever cause you like, over a thousand are represented.

Such an easy way to help.

thankful for mashed potatoes and chicken broth

trilliann — 2006-11-23T08:11:13-05:00

Ain't this just peachy? I have the flu. Or at least flu-like symptoms- since I got sick on Tuesday, Doc says it may be a reaction to the shot they gave me for the contrast CT on Monday. If so, it's a heckuva long reaction.

On the positive side, I'm grateful that Dad's surgery wasn't this week after all. Because I wouldn't have been able to be there, and the combination would've been a bit too stressful for Mom.

I'm thankful for cold & flu meds that put me to sleep for long stretches of time, and keep me entertained with very intriguing dreams.

I'm appreciative for my family who worry about me and take care of me, when I'm too sick to do either.

I'm beholden to Blockbuster.com for an unending stream of entertainment during my waking hours.

I'm relieved that I was already off work.

I'm ..... out of synonyms for thankful.

Lest I ever fail to mention it, I'm eternally in debt to my wonderful Mindsay friends, who love me in spite of everything. You make my world a brighter (and more interesting) place.

Thank you.

short drive

trilliann — 2006-11-27T11:11:25-05:00

"I don't need you to drive me to distraction, I can find it just fine myself. "

results (or, lack thereof)

trilliann — 2006-11-29T08:11:19-05:00

After reviewing the CT scan, followed by ramming a long, ominous looking tube with a light at the end down my nose and into my throat, my Doctor has identified the golf balls in my throat as swollen salivary glands.

That’s it.

No diagnosis as to what’s causing it, or suggestions to make it better, or even a referral to another specialist.

“You’ve been sick too long to be mumps, the blood tests eliminated other possibilities- must be a ‘lyme thing.’ Keep putting ice on it if that helps keep the swelling down.”

Felt like demonstrating for him exactly what it feels like to have golf balls stuck in your throat, but I refrained. So far.

memory (or, lack thereof)

trilliann — 2006-11-29T03:11:23-05:00

Bugs have been partying. As a result, brain fog has been thicker than usual.

Lack of short term memory can be very annoying, but realizing you’ve lost chunks of your past can be especially disconcerting.

For the most part, I think I’ve managed to move on the point that it’s mildly amusing. Sat down to watch a movie with friends the other night, they insisted we saw it before.

I told them, in no uncertain terms, that we absolutely had not seen it. Perhaps they had at some point, but I most definitely had not.

Movie began and… hmmm…..

Each progressive scene was familiar. But still, I had no idea what would come next.

It was great, I got to enjoy the movie for the first time, all over again. (I am fortunate to have very forgiving friends. )

But what got me the oddest looks happened just the other night. It had turned cold outside, and my friend Tina was reminiscing about a night about 10 years ago, when a terrible cold front blew in.

“The heat pump stopped working, so when Trill came and picked the kids up to go to bible study class I got in touch with the landlord. He said he couldn’t get anyone there to look at it for at least three days. My husband was out of work with a hurt back, my grandmother was living with us because she was having health problems, it’s getting below freezing that night, and we’ve got no heat and no money. I went to the store to buy a little space heater or something, but because of the cold snap all the stores were sold out of anything we could afford, even any firewood. When Trill walked the kids in, I was on the phone asking my neighbor if we could borrow some extra blankets, so I just waved at her and she left. But about an hour later, she was back, pulling up in the driveway in that huge car she used to drive.”

Just then somebody from the other room called Tina, and she turned to go see what they wanted.

“Wait!” I called out, on the edge of my seat “What did I do next?”

Yes, very strange looks from everyone there.

simple request

trilliann — 2006-11-30T12:11:03-05:00

Go see the sockpuppets

Try to guess which one belongs to which blogger.

Vote for your favorite puppet.

Personally, I’m having a very hard time choosing between the adorable hybrid and the brilliantly understated wanderer.

Me, I’ll be crying in my corner about the box full of puppets I made that ran away from home. Well, they disappeared, anyway. It’s possible that I put them somewhere that seemed perfectly logical at the time, but I rather think they ran off to go do puppety things together.

the difference, part 1

trilliann — 2006-12-01T08:12:57-05:00

The difference in going to work on Monday...

The difference, part 2

trilliann — 2006-12-01T08:12:39-05:00

...and going home on Friday.

I want one

trilliann — 2006-12-03T07:12:45-05:00

If you're online at 8 am Pacific time today (11 am eastern), you might be able to get a rather nice portable dvd player at amazon for $25.

They've been running a poll of favorite deal, that won. Only a thousand available at that price, so expect the site to load slow (if at all) and to sell out in minutes.

Sadly, I will not be home to join the fun.

repeat as necessary

trilliann — 2006-12-04T09:12:09-05:00

Aren’t you glad they added “as necessary” to the directions on the shampoo bottle? Otherwise we could be stuck in an endless cycle of “lather, rinse, repeat.”

fyi

trilliann — 2006-12-06T11:12:27-05:00

Thanks for all the prayers and good juju ya'll have been sending this way, heaven knows we need it.

Dad came thru the surgeries with flying colors yesterday. Yes, surgeries- one to repair one of his hernias (he has two) and one to remove the contraption they installed in his chest for the chemotherapy. Sent him home the same day, but he can't be left alone for a few days, and has to be very careful of avoiding any infection since his immune system is already compromised.

The golf balls in my throat mysteriously shrunk to marbles overnight Tuesday. Whoohoo! The only thing I can figure I did differently is the Bellini. So apparently, I need to start drinking. *hiccup *

Haven't had time to surf Mindsay lately, but I miss ya'll and I have plans to catch up with what's been going on around these parts over the weekend.

showing concern

trilliann — 2006-12-06T08:12:16-05:00

Exhausted from cleaning out my beloved corner office with the lovely view of the retaining wall, getting ready to move down the hall back into the realm of offices without sunlight, I had to rest my head on the desk for a minute.

That's when I heard two co-workers stop and peek in the door at me.

"Uh-oh. Looks like somebody broke our Trill."

"That's not good. How long do you think it'll take to get another one?"

"Last I heard they were indefinitely backordered."

"Check eBay, they have everything."

"Yeah, but can you imagine how much shipping is gonna cost?"

"You do not need a new Trill," I grumbled "all I need is a few relatively minor upgrades."

don't ask me why

trilliann — 2006-12-08T10:12:28-05:00

come to terms

trilliann — 2006-12-14T05:12:50-05:00

"This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays."

-Arthur Dent, on learning the world would be coming to an end in five minutes.

NRL vote time

trilliann — 2006-12-16T01:12:13-05:00

What do you think? Is this tiara a bit much? I am getting a bit of a crick in the neck.

indecisive

trilliann — 2006-12-16T12:12:20-05:00

Working on finding something a bit more modest. (Erm, so the first one probably doesn't qualify.)

Help me pick one, please!

Which NRL's are still tiara-less?

Update- one more. That's it, I promise.

surprise!

trilliann — 2006-12-17T04:12:34-05:00

Remember when you were a kid, and your pretty balloon got stuck in a tree, and you cried and cried and cried? Happily, this pretty balloon got free.

I was quite surprised to step out my front door on this gorgeous spring-like afternoon and see this practically in my front yard.

Does this offend you?

trilliann — 2006-12-20T01:12:19-05:00

According to a recent survey, 95% of shoppers say that they are not offended by the phrase "Merry Christmas" being used in stores. Since only about 75% of Americans belong to faiths that celebrate the holiday, this would seem to indicate that people in general are less sensitive than stores fear.

Then comes the disappointing news. The same survey found that 32% of people interviewed said they are offended by the more generic term "Happy Holidays."

I find it unbelievable that people, especially those who claim this is a holiday about love and generosity, would be offended by an attempt to not offend people. Does it also bother you that the rest of the year they greet you with "Hello," when the obvious root word is "hell"?

Personally, I don't celebrate Christmas. I take my Christianity very seriously, and I don't feel that an ancient pagan celebration honors my savior. I don't bring up the subject often, not because I'm uncomfortable with it but because it makes others uncomfortable. The most common response is a resounding uncomfortable silence, followed by effusive apologies. Do not apologize, please. I am not offended by kindly meant wishes. I love getting cards, pictures and emails from my friends and family for any reason- although I do my best to politely refuse holiday gifts. The general good cheer; (as long as one avoids shopping malls) wishes of peace, love, and merriness; serious overdose of sugary goodies in the kitchen at work; pretty lights; fantastic sales; fruitcake- all of these things are enjoyable even if one doesn't share in the celebration.

In my mind, if someone smiles and wishes me a Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays and I snap back at them "I don't celebrate Christmas!", this would be much like someone saying "Have a nice day!" and me replying "I can't believe you just said that, I'm on my way to a funeral!" A kindly meant greeting should be accepted with politeness.

Most of all, I am profoundly grateful to live in a land where I have the freedom to choose my own beliefs, and to practice them as I see fit. Enjoying that freedom, which people in many parts of the world do not have, means that I have the responsibility to also respect your rights to believe and worship (or not) as you see fit. My beliefs are not the point of this post- the point I'm trying to make is that only a hypocrite would claim freedom for themself while attempting to force others to fit in their mold. I hope you enjoy whatever holidays you may be celebrating. Please take the time to offer thanks that you have the God given right of free will, to make your own choices- and the man-given right to freedom of worship as you choose.

May you find peace and joy in everyday miracles.

showing respect

trilliann — 2006-12-24T04:12:13-05:00

I know everyone is a bit distracted and busy right now, just wondering about something. Around here, if a funeral procession is driving down the road, all cars going in both directions will typically pull to the side of the road and stop as a sign of respect until all of the funeral procession has passed. The funeral procession is generally led by a police car (lights flashing but no siren) driving very slowly, followed by the hearse, followed by all the friends and family who are going to graveside services in their vehicles.

People are more likey to pull over and stop for a funeral procession than for an ambulance with siren blaring.

Some areas also have signs the officials will put on the street near the home of a family who has recently lost a loved one, "Slow, Death in Family." Presumably this is not only a sign of respect, but also notes that grieving people may not be the best drivers at that time, and that there may be many cars parked on the side of the road as people come to the house to pay their respects.

I've always assumed that these were common customs, but a yankee transplant at the funeral yesterday mentioned that he'd never seen either one anywhere else.

Are these old customs tht are infrequently practised elsewhere, or strictly southernisms, or perhaps just Georgiaisms? What do they do where you live?

you are what you eat

trilliann — 2006-12-25T08:12:27-05:00

Walked in the store, and there it was. The object of my quest. Gleaming jewel-studded bricks piled in neat rows, waiting. Come, they beckoned. We've been expecting you.

Not my usual brand, but look! Pre-sliced. Well, isn't that handy?

Lovingly place it gently in my basket, and hurried to finish the rest of my grocery shopping. Of course the checkout clerk made the requisite joke. Laugh a bit giddily, for it is almost mine.

Rush to the car and tear into the cellophane wrapper, gently separate one perfect slice, and savor that first bite.

Gag! Every fruitcake joke I've ever heard suddenly makes perfect sense. Dry, chemical-flavored nastiness crumbles in my mouth, and no drink to wash it down with.

Once I have recovered sufficiently, march back in to the customer service counter, receipt in hand, demanding a refund. "This stuff is nasty!"

"Well, yeah." he says, bewildered "It's fruitcake."

Lesson learned- avoid Village Fair Old-Fashioned Pre-Sliced Fruitcake at all cost. Remain loyal to the goodness of Claxton's.

peace on earth

trilliann — 2006-12-27T01:12:44-05:00

Some photos I enjoyed from extremely talented wildlife photographer Tanja Askani.

"Bambi and Thumper"

"Dude, you just ate my ear! I am not a chocolate easter bunny! "

More here.

leavin on a jet plane

trilliann — 2006-12-28T04:12:16-05:00

23 hours

kersnuffle

trilliann — 2006-12-29T07:12:00-05:00

I have the sinus infection from hell. Along with that, I look like death, lightly warmed over.

My eyes are red, and I'll probably be accused of smuggling contraband in the bags under my eyes. My nose is red, dry and swollen. My voice could be used as a horror movie monster. Ears so clogged I feel like I'm underwater.

Flying is not going to be fun. Let's hope I can medicate enough to survive the flight (and hopefully patch up my appearance enough so as not to terrify poor Beau.)

Because nothing is keeping me from boarding that plane.

reflection

trilliann — 2006-12-29T12:12:32-05:00

In the normal course of life, our horizons expand with every passing year. As children, our world consists of only our immediate family. Gradually, other people and far off places grow from distant concepts to reality. Every year of our lives, we continue to add knowledge of people, places and concepts that broaden our minds and hopefully our hearts.

As the year ends, traditionally we look back at the major events that have come to pass, and ponder on how they've changed us. All the many ‘year in review’ shows would seem to indicate that this is a common pastime.

Reflecting on the year drawing to a close, I realize that this year my worldview has steadily been shrinking. Less and less have I had the concern to involve myself in world affairs, as all my energies have gone to surviving one crisis after another in my own small circle of influence. I probably know less about the state of the world in general than at any previous time in my adult life.

But it’s okay. Because I’ve come to realize that I’ve still been growing. I’ve discovered new reserves of strength deep inside of myself, that I never would have believed existed. I’ve reinforced the vital importance of good friends with a listening ear and soft shoulders to lean on. I’ve learned to never take for granted those you love, and to make certain they know how you feel. I’ve seen joy spring from depths of pain, laughter grow from tears, and hope from even the deepest sorrow. Petty differences are unimportant; perspective is one of the most valuable traits I can acquire. As the wise men said, “All you need is love.”

So while my world has temporarily shrunk and grown claustrophobic, I’m certain that like a favorite pair of jeans fresh out of the dryer it will stretch and grow comfortable again- and that it will be even better for the agitation of the wash cycle. (That’s a horrible metaphor. Ouch. Sorry. I’ve also learned that you guys will forgive me for a lot, and for some reason keep coming back for more!)

What have you learned this year?

As you see out the old year and welcome the new, I hope you find time for joy, laughter and reflection. Have fun and be safe- if you drink, please don’t drive. And watch out for the idiots that do. Because I’ve lost quite enough loved ones this year.

home again

trilliann — 2007-01-02T03:01:21-05:00

I’ve been invited to a formal dinner and celebration at the family castle in Scotland.

* blissfully ignoring that the “invitation” is in fact a mass market mailing to all the millions of people who can claim kinship with Clan McDonald, as well as “all friends and supporters of” them. *

Beau refuses to wear a kilt. I didn’t ask him to, he peremptorily refused. Well, there goes his invitation.

So- who wants to go with me?

fantastic!

trilliann — 2007-01-04T10:01:52-05:00

When Heroes finally returns to the screen at the end of this month, reportedly one of the new heroes will be played by the fantastic Christopher Eccleston. (AKA the 9th incarnation of Doctor Who, from the 2005 series.)

Sadly, his superpower will not be time travel.

a new resolution

trilliann — 2007-01-04T05:01:29-05:00

Since it's only the fourth day of the new year, might I humbly suggest one more resolution you can easily live with?

Repeat after me.

"I will answer Questions of the Week. I will choose one of each versus. I will listen to WTF Radio."

See, that's not so hard now is it? Much easier than that diet you're already cheating on.

no subject

trilliann — 2007-01-07T07:01:51-05:00

So dizzy I feel like I might fall off the earth. Hopefully temporary effect of new new meds. Typing is much harder than reading, forgive me if I lurk for a bit.

no subject

trilliann — 2007-01-09T09:01:09-05:00

Wonder if I could find someone to install a seatbelt on my office chair?

Surprisingly, being dizzy for days is not nearly as entertaining as you might imagine. At least, not for me. Possibly it is for the people watching me attempt to walk.

stealth logic

trilliann — 2007-01-09T03:01:54-05:00

"T Rex, because they're better at stealth."

Who am I to argue with such profound logic?

pre-coffee haiku

trilliann — 2007-01-11T09:01:21-05:00

on my way to work

traffic moves in fits and starts

silently screaming

oh, for a camera phone!

trilliann — 2007-01-12T08:01:33-05:00

Once again sitting in mostly stationary traffic when I glanced at the car next to me and noticed something a bit unusual. Young kid driving an old beat up car with the window down.

No, that's not the unusual part.

The unusual part is why he had the window down.

He had the window down so that the neck of his guitar didn't bust the glass. You see, for some reason he had apparently decided that sitting in traffic would be a good time to practice his guitar. Driving in Atlanta traffic, left hand and guitar neck protruding into the next lane, steering who knows how, playing the guitar and singing his fool heart out.

I mean, I like to sing along with the radio as much as the next person, but there are limits.

thank god for girlfriends

trilliann — 2007-01-13T05:01:47-05:00

FYI for our mutual friends, I had lunch with Miz Snuggs (yummy spicy Thai food) and she's feeling much better today. In fact, she looked fantastic! The new Cobalt is gorgeous, too. However, she's having computer issues, so who knows when she'll be able to get back online.

Update- Nevermind, she's back online! The rest still stands, though.

Heritage, Part 1

trilliann — 2007-01-15T11:01:23-05:00

I was fortunate enough to have been raised in a family where race was simply not an issue. While my own skin color is commonly described as “fish belly white,” I have Aunts, Uncles and Cousins who are a lovely range of shades of brown. Your designation in our family is a result not of lineage but of age group- so the older generation are all called Grandparents, next younger are all Aunts and Uncles, and the youngest group are called Cousins- including those not actually related by blood or marriage at all, but simply “adopted” into our clan. I was half grown before I got straightened out who was “really” related and who wasn’t- sometimes I’m still not certain.

Even growing up in a tiny town in the mountains of North Georgia, prejudice was a completely foreign concept to us. If someone acted ugly to my cousins and I when we were out together, we assumed it was because they were an ugly person- not because of the colors of our skin. Our parents sheltered us to some extent, careful of our association as parents should be- my cousins agree that it wasn’t just me who was oblivious to the prejudice that society tells us must have been present.

Our eyes are green or blue or brown. Our hair is red, black, brown or blond. (My own eyes and hair have varied thru many shades.) Some of us get darker in the sun, some of us burn at the mention of sunlight, some of us (myself included) simply stay the same skin tone no matter have much sunlight we’re exposed to, without browning or burning.

These outward appearances do not a family make. Our hearts beat the same.

fund raising

trilliann — 2007-01-16T10:01:33-05:00

Back and forth all over the office yesterday. Didn’t have any pockets and my arms were full of building plans, so I found other ways to carry my necessary office supplies- holstered the stapler on my hip, pen tucked behind my ear, and so on. I tried to make certain that all these items were disposed of accordingly before I ran out for lunch, but apparently I missed some.

The waitress noticed what she took to be the ubiquitous awareness bracelets in shades of tan and inquired politely, “Oh, what cause are those supporting?”

Glancing down, I saw the thick rubber bands lined up on my wrist.

“United Office Workers of America.” I replied with a smile. “Would you like to buy one?”

falling into memories

trilliann — 2007-01-18T03:01:26-05:00

It's cold and dreary out, and I'm at home sick. It occured to me that I never shared any pictures from the day I took Grams and friends up to the mountains to see the fall colors. Looking back cheered me up a bit, so I thought I'd share.

This describes me today. Well, a lot lately. Maybe I should get one of these signs for my desk.

I liked the juxtaposition of the leaves and the shells, but under two feet of water- even very still, clear water- it's a bit murky. I wish I had thought at the time to float a few brightly colored leaves on the surface for contrast.

'Twas a gorgeous day, and Grams & Friends had fun, which was of course the point. Friends for more than 50 years, these two.

oops, missed one

trilliann — 2007-01-19T07:01:12-05:00

Not a technically brilliant snapshot, by any means. But it makes me smile to remember.

(Oh, look, I can take a picture of myself!)

beautiful day

trilliann — 2007-01-20T12:01:44-05:00

Had to share the source of my latest icon picture. Snuggs gave me this delightful magnet- isn't it great to have friends who recognize when something is so perfectly "you"? It even kind of looks like me. Except for the overdose of blue eyeshadow. ;)

Who is reading this?

trilliann — 2007-01-21T10:01:42-05:00

Hollywood is ripping off my blog.

Last Spring, I wrote about the psycho mockingbird harassing me outside my bedroom window, singing his lonely little heart out at 3 am every night. For weeks I could not enjoy an uninterrupted nights sleep. This has happened three Springs in a row, despite moving. I was quite devastated to learn that not only is "To Kill a Mockingbird" not a How-To guide, but also that it's illegal to "harm or harass" a mockingbird.

Tonight, I watched the movie "Failure to Launch." A movie about adults still living with their parents. Hey, I don't still live with mine, I live with them again! They need my help! It's temporary!

A supporting character is played by Zooey Deschanel, the actress who played my namesake Trillian in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy movie. (Enough with the boring links now, seriously.)

A major part of her character's plotline is a mockingbird living outside her window, singing his ever varied tune all night so she can't get any sleep.

Let's summarize- Trillian, going nutzo because of an evil mockingbird mocking her from a tree outside her bedroom. Granted, she's rather more entertaing and dark in her version of nutzo than I am, but still.

Why exactly am I not listed in the credits?

It's all about ME!

trilliann — 2007-01-23T11:01:20-05:00

Borrowed from... erm, a whole bunch of people.

Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property?
Well, not on purpose…

Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
I’m not a violent person. My forms of revenge tend to be subtler than that.

Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people?
Yes, when I was too young to know better. And again this Friday. Egad.

What is your biggest mistake?
My mistakes are myriad. But I do try to grow from each of them.

Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?
Not physically.

Say something totally random about yourself.
I’m a genetic freak. My hair and eyes change colors frequently, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Not hugely dramatic differences, but enough that people assume that I dye my hair and wear different colored contacts.

Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
People used to tell me I looked like Kate Winslet frequently, and one lady said I looked just like Michelle Pfeiffer (bless her nearsighted little heart)

Do you still watch kiddy movies or tv shows?
Absolutely. My inner child is not repressed.

Did you have braces?
Nope. My “sister” Dee was very upset when she didn’t need braces, because all the “cool kids” had braces. :P

Are you comfortable with your height?
Sometimes.

Do you speak any other languages?
Not fluently (at all) but I can just about cover the bare basics (Hi, How are you, My name is, I love you, Where’s the bathroom, I need coffee) to survive in Spanish, French, German, Italian, ASL, Gaelic, and Hindi. Oh, and sometimes English. Fascinated by languages, but if I would settle on just one to study it would undoubtedly be more useful.

Have you ever been to a tanning salon?
A rather bizarre Doctor at one point prescribed it as therapy. The people who worked there were fascinated by my melanin free skin, which never changed color at all.

For a while I went to the spray-on tan booth, so I could wear shorts without making people go snowblind. Got too expensive, so I went back to just wearing long pants.

Has anyone you were really close to passed away?

Many.

What's something that really annoys you?
Inconsiderate drivers.

What's something you really like?
Home grown tomatoes

What's the latest you have ever stayed up?
I’ve had bouts of insomnia that lasted a week and almost send me to a padded cell. The longest I’ve stayed up completely on purpose was about 36 hours when we went to Venice, because that was all the time I had there and I wasn’t going to waste a second with sleep.

Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?

Nope, but I should have been.

still cheaper than gym membership

trilliann — 2007-01-23T03:01:34-05:00

If a Wii can help you lose weight, does that mean I could use it as a tax deduction for healthcare expenses?

we meet again

trilliann — 2007-01-25T02:01:02-05:00

Warily I approach, aware that the uneasy truce we have been enjoying could dissolve at any moment. Neither of us gained a clear victory in our last pitched battle, but I have gained respect for my enemy and his wily ways.

“Hello, Harry Plotter” I muttered as I approached the beast of a printer. “I have a simple request of you. All I need are 27 copies of these plans, on 33” x 22” paper. Then I’ll leave you again to plot in peace.”

I’ve been sending out orders to a printing service when we need full scale plans for the last couple of months, but these were already past due when I received them and couldn’t wait.

It went well to begin with, then slowly the high-pitched humming began. Humming increased to a whine, punctuated by an insistent BEEP and the horrid sound of crinkling paper. The screen gleefully proclaims ERROR! Misfed Paper! And directs the way to clear the jam.

But it can’t be as simple as that. Oh, no. Jammed again every few pages, and when that fiendish attempt failed to discourage me he began hurling the freshly printed pages to the floor in a fit of mechanical rage.

Two hours and half a roll of paper later, bruised and shaking I emerged from the plotter room, grasping the plans in victory. He didn’t spit ink powder at me this time, so I consider this definite progress.

We will meet again, my clever friend. And this time, the disaster will be yours!

iconic

trilliann — 2007-01-26T07:01:38-05:00

Lately I've been visiting- although rest assured, I'm not planning on defecting- another blog site. Some of my friends are active there, I've been trying to lure them here instead.

Anyway, the one feature I really like about this other site is that you can use a different user icon for every post and reply you leave. And they allow brief animated clips as user icons.

Which means that comments can get rather busy, as people choose an icon to suit their mood, flavor their reaction, or express their fandom.

Some of the icons are really quite clever, thought ya'll might enjoy a couple of my favorites. I've alternated the animated and still shots to make them a little less busy.

(not) all donations welcome

trilliann — 2007-01-28T05:01:53-05:00

I'd like to direct you to MSNBC's Week in Pictures to see a lovely shot of our friend hypnagogic , a beautiful picture of Comet McNaught, a very bad job of parking, and other newsworthy images.

Just had to share this one with you- some people will donate anything!

what if?

trilliann — 2007-01-29T12:01:18-05:00

Last night, while I lay thinking here,
Some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
And pranced and partied all night long
And sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow taller?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems swell, and then
The nighttime Whatifs strike again!

-by Shel Silverstein

wintry weather limerick

trilliann — 2007-02-01T09:02:16-05:00

Over Georgia there fell a great snow

Well, mostly rain and sleet, you know

Just enough did fall

For one good snowball

But no one handy at whom to throw

more emotional purging

trilliann — 2007-02-01T05:02:11-05:00

It’s been a year since we lost our sweet Chandler. Only 16 years old, a more kind and generous teenager you could never hope to meet. A sensible driver in what his friends teased him was an “old lady car,” according to witnesses he was only driving 35 mph in a 40 zone when he hit the curb, overcorrected, nobody knows for certain- somehow managed to wrap the car around a tree.

The same week, his older sister found out that she and her husband were expecting their first child. A beautiful nephew who he would have doted on.

Why does it seem that the anniversary is hitting me even harder than the original tragedy? The first grief is wildly painful, but somehow unreal. As time passes, reality slowly sinks in. Time marches on, life continues, but he doesn’t.

Thinking of him, of his family and all the pain they continue to face, I’ve been weeping for days. (Gad, I hate weepy women.) Morbidly fascinated with looking at the news picture of his car, trying to figure out how such destruction could happen at such low speed.

Do me a favor. Hug your children, send them to every driving course you can find before you set them loose on the roads.

Teenagers think they are indestructible. They aren’t.

Chandler was the first of ten loved ones I lost in the last year. Hopefully the rest of the anniversaries won’t quite be so hard to face.

the pockets are bigger on the inside

trilliann — 2007-02-02T02:02:24-05:00

In times of stress, my attention span disappears. Didn't used to be like this, but now I really do have the attention span of a gnat on methamphetamines.

Conversation as just brought to my attention by a very patient friend.

Friend: "Hey Trill, do you have a pen I can borrow?"

Trill: "Sure, hang on a second."

*Begins to dig in coat pocket for pen*

*Finds piece of GinGins candy*

Trill: "Oh, look, candy!"

*Unwraps candy and happily begins chewing on it.*

*Wonders why friend is staring with odd quizzical look*

Trill: "Sorry, I don't think I have any more?"

*Friend still staring*

Friend: "Um, about that pen?"

Trill: "Oh, yeah! Sorry!"

*begins digging for pen again*

Trill: "Hey, what's this!?"

Friend sighs and leaves to find a pen somewhere else.

PS- Amazingly, I did remember to wear red today. Heart disease is the number one killer of women in America, and is far less likely to be diagnosed in a timely manner than in men because the symptoms tend to be more subtle. Go to Go Red for more information on how to protect your own heart and those you love.

reluctant butterfly

trilliann — 2007-02-04T04:02:53-05:00

Friday night I took the parents out to celebrate their anniversary. I mean, sure they're driving me completely insane, but 35 years is quite an accomplishment. Especially since we weren't really certain if Dad would still be around this year.

We started at Dave & Busters. If you've never been to one, it's basically a nice restaurant (although we didn't eat...or drink there) connected to a huge video arcade for people pretending to be adults. The biggest difference between this and your more traditional video arcade being (a) the honking huge bar down the middle of the room and (b) the switches on each game you can toggle to have them bring you anther drink thus necessitating (c) there are very few children present, none at all allowed after ten pm. However we were there rather earlier and it's a fun family atmosphere. By the way, apparently I completely suck at air hockey. Lots of very interactive games that require whole body coordination. They must've played very nearly every game there, giggling like kids. After watching us race on Star Wars Pod Racers, Dad commented "Ooooooo k.... guess I'm driving tonight." :P

Then we went to the new trendy area downtown called Atlantic Station. Formerly the site of the Atlantic Steel factory, this area has been undergoing a massive renewal project. I love that they've taken this wasted space, with the rotting factory, and turned it into something more economically and environmentally sustainable.

We ate at Dolce, which is extremely hip and trendy but still manages to be comfortable. Amazing service, even though every table was full I swear their were more staff than customers. Mom thought the doorman looked like Malcolm Jamal Warner, Dad thought the hostess looked like Lindsay Lohan, and I thought our head waiter looked like Rob Thomas. (He did!) Not any of our usual type of place, and personally I thought they carried the decorating theme of black on black a bit too far with the black toilet paper (that cannot be good for the environment.) Still, the curving lines, high ceiling, airy floor to ceiling curtains were all elegant, and the huge LCD screen turned sideways displaying a roaring fire was a nice touch. Apparently someone from the SciFi network was in charge of uniforms, because despite the trendy elegance elsewhere the waitresses wore tight low cut tank tops, while the waiters wore henleys with shiny gold logos the size of a dinner plate on the left shoulder. The food was amazing, and the bill wasn't as painful as expected.

Home again, curled up on the couch with laptop-that-still-needs-a-name, all ready to listen to the weekly wtf .

At which time I promptly fell sound asleep about 5 minutes before it started. Woke up about 3am Saturday, computer still perched on lap, with a heck of a crick in the neck.

Tonight I'm being forced to leave the house again, in someone's determined attempt to force me to metamorphose into a social butterfly. However, since we're going to another of my absolute favorite places in Atlanta, I shan't complain too much.

Well, ok, I probably shall and possibly already have. Just want to sleep, and people have this annoying habit of nudging me in the ribs when I fall asleep in public. Seriously, as long as I'm not driving at the time, what is the big deal?

staying power

trilliann — 2007-02-05T09:02:52-05:00

He was 21. She was 18. Both much too young to fully understand the meaning of phrases like “Til death do us part.”

He honestly thought she was perfect. While they were dating he asked her, stars in his eyes, “Is there anything about you that isn’t perfect?”

Fully aware of her own imperfections but not certain she wanted to bring them to his attention, she smiled, laughed and gently changed the subject.

She honestly thought that he would never see her in the light of day without her hair done and make-up on. In fact, for the first several months of their marriage she would get up before his alarm went off, just so she could be all made up to make his breakfast before he left for work.

Having both come from troubled households, they made an agreement with each other, that the word “divorce” would never be used in their household. No matter how bitter the argument, as long as both remained faithful to their vows, this was not an idle threat to be hurled at each other. They brought to each other the stability they both had craved.

And so they grew up together, some lessons learned harder than others. Less than a year into their life together he came down sick with mono, which of course led to inordinate amounts of teasing from friends. But it kept getting worse, and he was forced to stay out of work for 8 months. Fortunately their needs were simple, and they weathered that storm with the grace and courage that would mark their future.

After a few years they decided to start a family. No sooner decided than pregnant, they joyfully began to plan this new chapter of their lives. But it was not to be, not then.

32 years later she still mourns on the anniversary of the loss of their unborn son.

32 years later he still forgets, bewildered as to why she’s sad. Until he remembers once again, and puts his arms around her to offer what comfort he can.

Two years later their daughter was born. They never intended for her to be an only child, but more children simply didn’t happen. So they did as they had always done, collecting “strays”, children and adults in homes with too little love, who seemed to sense instinctively that here there was always enough to go around, a warm embrace waiting for you. That the door would always be open.

They’ve weathered the loss of his parents, failed business ventures, health crisis and medical mysteries. Somehow it only makes them stronger. Their love for their Creator has been their guiding force, binding them even stronger together, as a “threefold cord (which) cannot quickly be torn in two.” Ecclesiastes 4:9-12.

They find joy and laughter in each other’s company, and truly there is no greater gift.

Happy 35^th Anniversary, Mom and Dad.

no subject

trilliann — 2007-02-07T08:02:42-05:00

Oh, joy! I have kidney stones. All the pain of childbirth, but instead of a bundle of joy you end up with a pebble.

Now we get to see the effect of Vicodin on my brain. Considering it took me ten minutes to type this, I'd say primary side effect is brain freeze.

Oh Mia, oh my-ah

trilliann — 2007-02-08T11:02:19-05:00

Remember Mia the Wonder Cat, who mysteriously appeared in the hedges, apparently dropped from the sky?

If not, read here and here.

Well, the lady who adopted her just sent an update with photos from her camera phone. She's almost 5 pounds now, and apparently quite grown up...

camera geek

trilliann — 2007-02-08T07:02:22-05:00

My Holga finally came today! With ~~toys~~ accessories! Yay!

A poorly constructed plastic toy camera that uses medium format film, leaks light like a sieve, frequently flies open for no apparent reason, randomly loses focus, and somehow occasionally takes amazing dreamlike softly vignetted photos bursting with color.

I will undoubtedly be vastly underwhelmed by my own results, but I've been wanting to experiment with one for a long time.

Not the package I was most hoping to receive in the mail, though...

Excuse me now, must go find where I left the Vicodin. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow....

easily amused. yea, verily.

trilliann — 2007-02-10T07:02:45-05:00

Warning: The following pictures have absolutely no merit whatsoever, be it artistic, scientific, or technical. However, I'm amused by my 3 new prizm filters and seem to be lacking the inhibitions that would prevent me from sharing.

Somebody got flowers! Doesn't really ease the pain of the kidney stones, but they are purty. Especially in the quintuple filter.

The filters don't quite fit this camera, so they tend to black out the edges. With the quintuple filter the center is somewhat in focus, the others less so.

Triple filter 1- meet my new pet, Spike.

There is a story behind my deep and abiding hatred for cacti, and why Ann therefore decided it would be a hilarious gift for me. Because she's evil and knew I would have to care for it and maybe even grow to love it if it came from her.

Triple filter 2 I'm not as excited about. Meh.

Spike says "Hi" to some old friends

winter wedding

trilliann — 2007-02-11T09:02:36-05:00

plea

trilliann — 2007-02-12T06:02:50-05:00

On Sunday, I'm having an anniversary party for my parents. Actually, it's a hybrid anniversary/graduation party celebrating both them and my cousin who just graduated with her MBA. I thought combining the two was incredibly efficient and logical, since they'd have similar guest lists, but apparently a lot of people think it's weird. I'm used to that. And there was no way I was hosting two parties.

Somehow, "Just family" ended up being 80 people.

I am in no shape for this. Further proof that I have lost whatever mind I may have ever had.

Anyway, keeping it simple so everything is somewhat under control. Except I'm having the darndest time coming up with background music.

Any suggestions? Need a few hours worth of music that won't distract from conversation too much, upbeat and appealing to a wide age range. And easily (legally) available.

Side note- my parents "song" is Something by the Beatles. Do you have any idea how hard it is to request that?

"Hi, could you play "Something" by the Beatles?"

"Sure, anything in particular?"

"Yes, 'Something'"

"So, just anything?"

"No, not just anything. The name of the song is 'Something.'"

"So I'll just pick one, shall I?"

and so on

beatles beatified

trilliann — 2007-02-13T02:02:43-05:00

This Saint statue was tucked away in an alcove in my favorite coffee shop in Guanajuato, Mexico. I always thought it looked like a certain drummer. While I knew there was a petition to have him knighted, did I miss the news of his beatification?

letting go

trilliann — 2007-02-13T09:02:55-05:00

If you write a will, someone should be designated with power of attorney.

While I'm not yet rewriting my will, I am finally admitting that I'm not up to this and turning power of a party over to Dee. (Dear lord, I do believe that was the worst segue ever. Sorry.) There ought to be some advantage to sharing my parents all these years, right? Isn't much to be done at this point anyhow, thankfully. But at least now if the party is a total flop, all blame can rest firmly on her shoulders. Yay!

By the way, Hallmark never got in touch so my truth in V-day cards are still available free of charge here.

Although if you aren't familiar with the true history of Valentine's Day you may find them unfunny and disturbing. Well, even if you are knowledgable, you may likely still be unamused. My mind is at times darkly twisted and should not be explored by unaccompanied minors.

for Antonio

trilliann — 2007-02-17T11:02:35-05:00

Because I know how much drunknphilosphr loves James Blunt. ;) Thought you might enjoy this parody.

I could get used to this

trilliann — 2007-02-21T04:02:34-05:00

Because it's been a rare occurrence lately, I thought I'd share the news. For several day- in a row, even!- I've actually been feeling pretty good. Physically, at least. I could definitely get used to this.

no subject

trilliann — 2007-02-23T10:02:35-05:00

Ya'll make me happy. Even when I'm silly, paranoid and ridiculously insecure.

Thank you.

*Tackles you with massive bearhug, or firmly clasps your hand with a dignified handshake, as the case may be.*

corrupted

trilliann — 2007-02-25T08:02:09-05:00

She's whistling- she often is- and it takes me a minute before I realize the tune. My Mother- the woman with the hatred of science fiction so strong it is rivaled only by her love of Hallmark movies. Whose worst nightmare was of being incapacitated and forced to watch SciFi channel all the time- (literally, she woke up sobbing from that one. Not so much the unable to talk or move part as the SciFi.) This dear woman who is open to new experiences and tolerant to a fault, but screams at the thought of science fiction in any form.

Is whistling music from Doctor Who.

I have finally corrupted her, and I am so proud. It's taken years of gently breaking down barriers of prejudice. We started with Roswell, which was really more soap opera than SciFi. Moved on to the Hitchhiker's Guide radio series on one particularly long road trip, which she enjoyed for the very British humor. Few months ago started gently introducing her to the amazing Christopher Eccleston and funny (and a little bit foxy) David Tennant. Some judicious editing to get to just the "good bits" and she's now unabashedly whistling Rose's theme from the Doomsday episode.

Granted, it's very pretty music.

I have succeeded where my Father has long failed.

We'll be working on Firefly next. Who knows? There may even be hope for Star Trek.

no sympathy from the yankees

trilliann — 2007-02-27T04:02:01-05:00

Not only have I welcomed this lovely early Spring with open arms, I have been absolutely reveling in it. Wallowing in the joy of sunshine and warmth and daffodils.

Then I heard it. The distant low murmuring, whirring sound.

The first lawn-mowing of the season.

Can it possibly really be necessary?

Look out the window at the lawn I apparently haven’t paid attention to for a few days. Yep, time to roll out the mower.

* Sigh * Why did Winter have to go away so soon?

request

trilliann — 2007-02-28T03:02:45-05:00

Please keep our dear Snuggs in your hearts and prayers.

Queen of the Not-Right Ladies, (co?)- Founder of KnapsacksOfHope , best friend any furry creature ever found, and all-around amazing and inspiring lady. She's in the hospital with a severe viral infection that seems to be exacerbating her pre-existing heart condition.

Janeites, Rejoice!

trilliann — 2007-03-01T09:03:14-05:00

Beginning later this month, ITV (which is non-BBC British telly) will be airing new versions of Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park, Persuasion, and Northanger Abbey. They’re scheduled to be shown by PBS on this side of the pond sometime in November.

Based on this lovely preview, they look to be very well done. I love the slightly sing-song quality of the announcer’s commentary, the acknowledgement that nothing is exactly as it seems with Austen's magnificent stories, every action and reaction has a deeper meaning.

springing

trilliann — 2007-03-02T11:03:46-05:00

We've been completely invaded by wild onions. Now cutting the grass makes you cry.

no subject

trilliann — 2007-03-05T08:03:43-05:00

That feeling good spell I was enjoying? Was really nice while it lasted.

Happy Pi Day!

trilliann — 2007-03-14T09:03:37-05:00

Go out and enjoy

3.141592653589793238462643383279502884197169399375105820974944592307816406286208998

628034825342117067982148086513282306647093844609550582231725359408128481117450284102

701938521105559644622948954930381964428810975665933446128475648233786783165271201909

145648566923460348610454326648213393607260249141273724587006606315588174881520920962

829254091715364367892590360011330530548820466521384146951941511609433057270365759591

953092186117381932611793105118548074462379962749567351885752724891227938183011949129

833673362440656643086021394946395224737190702179860943702770539217176293176752384674

818467669405132000568127145263560827785771342757789609173637178721468440901224953430

146549585371050792279689258923542019956112129021960864034418159813629774771309960518

707211349999998372978049951059731732816096318595024459455346908302642522308253344685

035261931188171010003137838752886587533208381420617177669147303598253490428755468731

15956286388235378759375195778185778053217122680661300192787661119590921642019 slices,

 with ice cream on top.

Pi Primer

trilliann — 2007-03-14T06:03:48-05:00

When a circle's diameter is 1, its circumference is π

Pi is the ratio of the circumference of a circle to it's diameter, an irrational real number (that's a technical term, isn't it lovely?) that is a mathematical constant.

Useful if, say, you want to know how big of a tablecloth you need for your round table. Or how many equally sized slices of pie you can serve from one basil-tomato pie. (The correct answer is one serving, all for me.)

Pi Day is basically an excuse for nerds to party while confusing the heck out of everyone else. (A favorite pastime.) Held on March 14, with sounds of nerdly rejoicing particularly at 1:59, because the beginning of Pi is 3.14159.

Many links here.

bad drivers should just hoof it

trilliann — 2007-03-15T09:03:50-05:00

Favorite news headline of the day (thus far) turns out to be non-Ides related.

"Unicorn Not Blamed in DUI"

NRM&M

trilliann — 2007-03-15T09:03:45-05:00

Blognapped from laughwithme and sandyquill - me as an M&M. You should do one, too! Make your character here, then go to the "studio" section to add toys and take photos in different locations.

celebrate the season?

trilliann — 2007-03-21T01:03:04-05:00

Cough

Sniffle

Wheeze

Rub eyes

ACHOO!

Clear throat

Happy First Day of Spring!

Whoop de freakin’ doo.

ghost (of a) bridge

trilliann — 2007-03-23T10:03:41-05:00

a few minutes to save lives

trilliann — 2007-04-09T10:04:38-05:00

One of our most precious non-renewable resources is Time. None of us knows exactly how much of it we have- every moment is precious. Being greedy, I’m asking for just a few minutes of yours.

As many of you know, I have chronic Lyme disease. People frequently ask, “What’s the long term prognosis?”

I don’t know.

There is so much we don’t know about this disease. We do know that if it’s caught early, it can often be cured with a single month of antibiotics. So why is it so hard to treat if the infection is long term?

We don’t have dependable blood tests for diagnosis, so many people (such as myself) go undiagnosed or misdiagnosed for years. People are dying, and their families don’t know the cause.

Many Doctors will tell you it isn’t sexually transmitted, and yet thousands of couples have found that one mate mysteriously develops the same disease months after their spouse. The research simply hasn’t been done.

Medical professionals aren’t trained to recognize the symptoms, beyond the telltale rash. But only half of Lyme patients develop the bullseye rash. They’ll tell people, even with classic symptoms, history of deertick bite, and a bullseye rash “There’s no Lyme Disease in our state. “ Lyme does not respect state lines.

Research into so called “Post-Lyme Syndrome”, for people with symptoms that never get better, isn’t being funded.

Insurance companies use the lack of research as a crutch. “There’s no evidence this course of treatment is necessary.” Nevermind the evidence of thousands of people helped- it wasn’t done in properly controlled research studies, so it doesn’t count. By refusing coverage, they are getting away with murder.

More research is desperately needed. Better education is desperately needed. Government assistance for patients who can’t afford necessary care is desperately needed. Better prevention is desperately needed.

Federal Bill HR-741 has been introduced to Congress, in support of funding some of this vital research. You can find more information here.

If this is something you feel you can support, please visit the website. From there you can find out who your congressional delegate is, and how to contact them to express your support for this bill. Call, write, even email. There are even sample letters.

http://www.lymediseaseassociation.org/HR741/HR741.html

A few minutes of your time could mean the world to the millions who could benefit from this research.

Thank you for your time.

i have no words

trilliann — 2007-04-17T10:04:55-05:00

musing, or, the dirt under my nails

trilliann — 2007-04-20T06:04:58-05:00

Planting a garden is an incredible act of faith, really.

To drop a tiny seed in the earth, tamp the soil over it, and believe that in a short time new life will spring forth.

The apostle Paul said "I planted, Apollos watered, but God kept making it grow." He was speaking figuratively, of course.

But still, every time I see those tiny green sprouts pushing determinedly out of the ground. Growing and developing until the time comes that they spring forth with produce or flowers.

My faith in everyday miracles is renewed.

May is Lyme Disease Awareness month. Prepare to be educated.

trilliann — 2007-05-01T04:05:12-05:00

May is Lyme Disease Awareness month.

Prepare to be educated, because you’re about to benefit from my years of research and personal experience. But I’ll break it into somewhat reasonable bite sized portions, assuming you may have a short attention span like me.

What causes Lyme Disease?

Lyme Disease is the common name for infection with the bacteria Borrelia burgdorferi. It is named for the city of Lyme, CT, where the disease was first identified.

If the fight against bacteria were a comic book, Borrelia burgdorferi would be a super powered villain. The kind that you keep thinking have been destroyed, but somehow next episode they’re back again. Think Lex Luthor or Daleks.

These nasty bugs have the ability to mutate to different forms, and proven capabilities of intracellular invasion. By hiding inside your own cells like a cloaking device, your natural defense mechanisms can’t reach them.

There is definite evidence that they can invade and hide indefinitely inside the following types of cells (intracellular invasion):

Endothelial cells - lining of the entire circulatory system.

Fibroblasts- which, ironically, provide a critical role in wound healing

Lymphocytes- a type of white blood cell. Yep, they hide inside the good guys.

Macrophages- more defense cells

Keratinocytes- outer skin cells

Synovium- the lining of cartilage in the joints

Neuronal cells- the synapses that get excited and transmit signals in the nervous system.

Glial cells, which support and protect the neurons.

Possibly by using this ability, BB's can cross the blood-brain barrier- something most antibiotics cannot do. Then they have a new place to hide where your autoimmune system and antibiotics can't reach them.

Your brain.

Apparently from there, they spread thru the central nervous system. This is why I say I have "bugs in my brain." Which is, incidentally, the best excuse for any lapse of memory, ever.

And in my spine, as it was found in my cerebro-spinal fluid, but that doesn't sound as interesting.

If they aren’t wreaking havoc hiding out inside your own cells, BB’s can also mutate. Their natural form is as a spirochete, named for their spiral formation. When under attack by the host life forms' natural defense systems, or by chemical treatments (i.e., antibiotics) it can mutate into a spheroplastic form (microscopic cysts.) While in cyst form, it has a dramatically reduced surface area for immune surveillance. It also gives off a different surface protein signal. The currently available blood tests search for antibodies to the spirochete form protein signal. Therefore, while in “hibernation” in cyst form, the bacteria is effectively invisible to natural defense systems, blood tests, and immune to the antibiotics which could destroy the spirochete form.

Up next- Transmission and Prevention

Please support Federal Bill HR-741 for funding for much needed tick-borne disease research.

Lyme Disease Awareness: Transmission

trilliann — 2007-05-02T11:05:13-05:00

There is still much uncertainty about means of transmission of Lyme Disease. There hasn’t been enough research to say for certain if it can be sexually contracted, although evidence seems to suggest that it is. We do know that mothers can pass it to their unborn babies. You can’t “catch” it just from casual contact, or being around someone with Lyme. You could probably share food and drink and even a toothbrush with them, if you wanted to, and be safe.

By far the most common means of infection is thru a tiny little bug known as a deer tick. The borrelia burgdorferi bacteria has developed perfectly to reproduce like crazy in the gut of the deer tick. (Ew.)

So if you aren’t bitten by a deer tick you’re fine, right?

Well, no. Biting flies, and possibly mosquitos may also transmit it. Most important to keep in mind is that you can easily not know that a deer tick has bitten you. These critters are tiny.

Look at the back of a dime. See where it says “United States of America”? A full grown adult is about the size of that “o”.

In the nymph stage, when they most often transmit the bacteria, they’re about the size of the period at the end of this sentence. Smaller than a freckle.

And they like dark, concealed places- like between your toes or under the hair on your scalp. So while it’s important to check yourself for ticks, it’s even better to avoid bites at all.

Prevention, later today.

Lyme Disease Awareness: Prevention

trilliann — 2007-05-02T04:05:11-05:00

This may be the most important thing I will ever write, so pay attention. (Now with less big words!)

Prevention-

Since the primary means of infection with Lyme is by deer tick bite, here are some tips to keep away the nasty little buggers.

Keep ticks out of your yard. Keep grass and shrubs trimmed, and don’t allow brush to pile up. Regularly apply chemical methods of insect control. Biconet has a great selection of natural and organic pest controls. Personally I’m a big fan of Mosquito Barrier, a natural super-garlic spray that helps prevent mosquitoes, ticks, and lots of other harmful insects. Spray it on the grass and at least 6 feet up the sides of trees, bushes and your home.

Don’t tell me it’s too expensive. My medical bills run about $700 a month, with insurance. I can’t afford IV antibiotics, which are one of the best treatments, because it can run a couple thousand dollars a month.

Prevention is not too expensive.

Another product I’ve heard good things about but haven’t yet tried is Tick Tubes.

Keep ticks off your pets. Pets can easily bring ticks in the house in their fur, and transfer them to you and your family. Talk to your vet about regularly scheduled flea and tick control. There are also natural products you can feed your dogs and cats to make them distasteful to bugs. Because you don’t want your pets to get sick, either.

Keep ticks off you and your family. If you are going to be in a wooded or brushy area, it’s best to wear long pants, with socks pulled over the cuffs. Yes, it looks dorky. Walking with a cane or being stuck in a wheelchair is not exactly a turn-on, either.

Wear light weight long sleeves that are fitted at the wrist. Wear a cap to provide some protection for your scalp; ticks love to skydive from trees onto your head. Light colored clothing will make it easier to spot the ticks if they do land on you.

Vaccine. There was, briefly, a Lyme vaccine. It was taken off the market, supposedly due to lack of consumer interest, high cost, and frequent need for booster shots. However, there is quite a bit of controversy as to the safety and effectiveness of the vaccine. New vaccines are being researched.

Use insect repellant. Generally, I am whole-heartedly in favor of natural and organic for pretty much everything. So you should understand that it’s a pretty big deal that I recommend using DEET. If you want to avoid skin contact, spray it just on your clothes (and don’t breathe in the fumes.)

Natural repellants- Eat lots of garlic, or take garlic pills. This really does help repel biting insects. Use natural insect repellant with catnip oil, which recent studies have shown to be 10 times more effective than DEET- but you have to reapply it frequently. (Plus, the cat gets high when you pet it…) Grow a catnip plant by your backdoor, break off a couple leaves when you go outside, crush and rub them all over your skin.

All of these will help protect you from mosquitoes too, which could be carrying West Nile Virus.

Prevention is the best cure.

What'd I miss?

trilliann — 2007-05-08T06:05:18-05:00

Holy cow, there’s a link to me in the mindsay news section.
Guess that means I really do need to buckle down and write about symptoms, diagnosis, treatment, and famous people with Lyme. And stress some serious warnings about “I am not a Doctor, I don’t even play one on tv” and the danger of self-diagnosis. As Mark Twain said, “Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint.”

In the meantime, some Lymie humor.

TICK WARNING!

I hate it when people forward bogus warnings, and I have even done it myself a couple times unintentionally...but this one is real, and it's important. So please send this warning to everyone on your e- mail list.

If someone comes to your front door saying they are checking for ticks due to the warm weather and asks you to take your clothes off and dance around with your arms up, DO NOT DO IT!! THIS IS A SCAM!! They only want to see you naked.

I wish I'd gotten this yesterday. I feel so stupid.

"I remember it well..." meme

trilliann — 2007-05-13T07:05:06-05:00

I know I haven't been around so much lately, but I remember all our good times together. Do you?

"If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often...or, indeed, have never even chatted) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and discover what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you."

Lyme Disease Awareness: Famous People with Lyme

trilliann — 2007-05-24T04:05:39-05:00

Many famous people are battling with Lyme Disease. Here are notes on a few.

The Athlete

When Florida State quarterback Wyatt Sexson was found wandering thru traffic in the middle of the night, obviously hallucinating and declaring himself to be the Son of God, it made the news. Everyone assumed that yet another promising athlete had succumbed to the lure of illegal drugs.

When he was eventually diagnosed with lyme disease with serious neurological involvement, it barely made a blip on the news. Much less interesting, I suppose.

The Musicians

Daryl Hall of Hall and Oates thought he had a flu that wouldn’t go away. After stumbling off stage during a concert with a fever of 103, he finally sought medical help. He was diagnosed with a tick borne disease Erlichia, but fortunately his doctor knew that it was too early to test for a co-infection of Lyme- blood tests are notoriously unreliable anyway, and are completely worthless for the first month after infection, as antibodies don’t show up in that time. (Which is the magic time when treatment can actually result in a complete cure, for some people.) At the mention of lyme, he thought to show his Doctor the weird bullseye shaped rash he had, which established the diagnosis.

He talks about his experience here in his blog, in an interview with inside edition and also here, where he mentions being on massive antibiotics for over a year, even with early diagnosis.

Emmy award winning musician Bill Chinook may not be a household name, but he had quite an impressive career. He was a leader of the Asbury Park, New Jersey music movement and was the founding member of what later became Bruce Springsteen's E Street Band.

He was an accomplished guitarist, keyboardist and singer-songwriter.
He released 13 albums, his first in 1975, and won an Emmy for Musical Direction and Composition for his song "Somewhere in the Night."

Over a course of years he had seen countless doctors and was told that he had Lupus, MS, stress and many other things. With the delay in diagnosis, the Lyme bacteria had entrenched itself deep into his body and nervous system.

He was disabled with crushing fatigue, burning, body pain, brain fog, and many more symptoms. He was finally referred to a leading Lyme specialist who realised what was wrong. "I saw every doctor in Maine for a year before I was diagnosed out of state." He battled the disease for another eight years before his death at the age of 59.

LD kills in many ways. You can die from the bacteria attacking vital tissues, in the heart and elsewhere.

You can die from the treatments.

You can die from misdiagnosis, and the treatments for those.

You can die from lack of judgment brought on by brain fog. A moment of lapsed concentration in traffic can be the end for you as well as others.

But most often if lyme kills you, it’s not listed as cause of death. Because the most common way is the most insidious, as the depression, despair over the unending pain and sickness, and lack of hope leads down a dark path ending for many in suicide. Sadly, this is the path that finally ended Bill Chinook’s long battle.

Read more stories of those who have lost the battle here- musician, photographer, advocate, artist, athlete, parent, child.

happy geek day!

trilliann — 2007-05-25T06:05:01-05:00

This may in fact be the geekiest day of the year. Today is not only "Towel Day", in honor of the late Douglas Adams. Without whom the world would be infinitely less weird, and in fact make even less sense.

Today is also "Universal Day of the Jedi", celebrating the 30th anniversary of Star Wars. The saga that in many ways changed science fiction and moviemaking, giving birth to a whole new level of imagination and geekdom.

Appropriately enough,today we also celebrate "Dia del Orgullo Friki"- or, "Freak Pride Day." The manifesto translates as "Because there's a Father's Day, a Mother's Day, a Labour Day, a Women Worker's day, Gay Pride... we've begun a national campaign on behalf of freaks (for we are many) so that people take us seriously and don't define us as "big kids".

Because we have the right to queue up for hours to see a film. Because we can go to toy shops, and buy any Star Wars figure in El Corte Inglés or McFarlein Toys, because we don't want them to stare at us in the metro just because we're reading a Spider-Man comic book..."

So wrap your towel round your head to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you. Very stupid but very, very ravenous.)

Wave your lightsaber in the air as you pledge to fight the dark side.

Embrace your inner freaky geek.

And if all of this just leaves you a bit bewildered and confused- just hug a geek today.

Rassilon knows, ~~They~~ We need it.

The Bonnie Banks O' Loch Lomond

trilliann — 2007-07-26T06:07:47-05:00

If ye've e'en so much as a drop o' Scottish blood runnin' in yer veins, ye cannae hear this tune w'out a tear in yer eye.

There are some slight variations on interpretations of "The Bonnie Banks O' Loch Lomond", but it is generally agreed that it is sung from the perspective of a lad in the defeated Scottish Jacobite rebellion. Having fought the bluidy English to put Bonny Prince Charlie back on the throne of Scotland, the ragged army has been disbanded- some to return to their homes, some to be executed. The soldier tells his comrade about his love he left behind, mourning that he will never be with her again. He is to be executed- but his soul, he believes, will take the "low road" through the spirit realm back to Scotland, while his comrade takes the "high road" above ground back to his own home.

The boys didn't mess with this one. And a good thing, too.

Features special bonus track at the end from the Missing Maidens.

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes

Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond

Where me and my true love were ever wont to go

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.

Chorus:

O you’ll tak’ the high road and I’ll tak’ the low road

And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye

But me and my true love will never meet again

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.

‘Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen

By the steep, steep sides o’ Ben Lomond

While in the purple hue, the hieland hills we view

And the moon comin’ out in the gloamin’.

Chorus

The wee birdies sing and the wild flowers spring

In the sunshine the waters are sleeping

But the broken heart, it kens nae second spring

Tho’ the waeful may cease frae their greeting.

Chorus

*Scottish translations-

loch - lake

braes- hills

ben- mountain

kens- knows

Substitute "oh" sound for "ae"

easily amused

trilliann — 2007-08-10T01:08:51-05:00

Dinner is baking in the new and improved Easy-Bake Auto (tm) right now.

Vegetable Curry.

Looks yummy...

Evolution of the Easy-Bake Auto

trilliann — 2007-08-12T04:08:04-05:00

All through the long, cold winter I dreamed of the Easy-Bake Auto(tm). (What? It was cold for thin Southern blood! Got down to the 40's. On multiple days. There were snowflakes. Like, at least 3! I saw 'em!)

Discovered some sites about solar ovens, and the dreaming took root as a deep fascination. Not just for fun or to conserve electricity, in third world areas these incredibly simple devices are saving lives. They enable families in developing lands to cook food and pasteurize water by harnessing the power of the sun. By eliminating the need to spend hours collecting firewood simply to survive, time can be spent on better activities, such as children being able to attend school.

But back in this part of the world, we have once more entered the form of Hades we affectionately refer to as "Summertime." Definitely too hot to cook in the oven and heat up the house. Baked more dashboard cookies a couple times, but it was time to move on to... um, more intensive research. All in the name of Science, of course. This is Serious Business, and should not at all by construed as an attempt to burn off accumulated silliness.

First, I bought a lovely dutch oven- it's not technically a "real" dutch oven, but it is a nice sturdy black pot with a glass lid. The metal and dark color help collect and retain the heat, the lid keeps the heat in, and the glass ... well, the glass lets me look at the food while it cooks. Which serves no real purpose other than keeping me amused.

Oddly enough, my co-workers were not nearly as amused by the Car Curry as they were by the Dashboard Cookies. Apparently, this crosses the line from "eccentric but amusing" to "seriously weird." Personally, I think the difference is just because I didn't offer to share with them.

Along with the dutch oven I built a basic solar oven- just several layers of cardboard- which also forms a buffer below the pot so my dashboard isn't scorched. Lined the cardboard below and behind the pot in aluminum foil, shiny side up to reflect the sun towards the pot. Unfortunately, my little car has a shallow dash and the pot just barely fit, so the cardboard behind the pot had to go, I was afraid it would make the whole thing tip over, and a passenger seat full of half baked food is definitely not the result I was hoping for.

Other than that, it's the same basic principle as cooking in a crock pot. Temperature reaches about 200 easily, hot enough to cook the food without worrying about it scorching. Slow cooking allows the flavors to blend beautifully. Park the vehicle facing south for maximum sun exposure. Put it in at 11am, it was perfect by 5 pm. This time I even remembered the potholders.

Here's my vegetable curry recipe. All approximate because I was making it up as I went along.

Car Curry

4 large potatoes

1/3 of a large onion

1 16 oz can of chickpeas

1 16oz can of diced stewed tomatoes

1 green bell pepper

2 tablespoons of finely diced fresh ginger

2 tablespoons garam masala (Indian spice blend)

1 tablespoon minced fresh garlic

3 tablespoons sesame oil

1 tablespoon grapeseed oil

1/2 cup water

salt to taste

Dice the vegetables, mix it all up, cook and serve.

Please remember- if a closed car gets hot enough to bake dinner, it's definitely no place for children or animals. If you wouldn't leave your small dependants inside an oven, then please don't leave them alone inside a locked vehicle, even for a few minutes.

ticks suck

trilliann — 2007-08-13T09:08:39-05:00

As you may have heard, it was recently revealed that last year President Bush was treated for Lyme Disease. Apparently, he was bitten by a deer tick, and was fortunate enough to show the classic bulls-eye rash, and he was treated with antibiotics without waiting for the unreliable blood tests. Which is good, because by the time the antibodies show up in the blood tests (if they ever do) the disease is firmly entrenched and harder to eradicate. It seems that they were able to kill the bugs, as he has not experienced any further symptoms. Would that all of us were so fortunate.

Those of us battling Lyme hope that this very high profile case will help raise awareness, and help others know what to look for so that they, too, can seek early treatment. As I've said before, more funding for research is desperately needed.

There is a battle going on now, among those who claim that long term antibiotics do no good, and those who know that without the antibiotics they get sicker again. The debate over "Post-Lyme Syndrome" versus "Chronic Lyme" is a bloody battlefield, with the sickest patients caught in the middle.

Speaking from personal experience, I know that I hate staying on antibiotics. It wrecks my body in so many ways. But every time I come off them, no matter how I try natural therapy and exercise, how fiercely determined I am not to get sick again- the symptoms always return, worse each time. After years on antibiotics, I seem to have finally found a combination that is slowly helping me gain my life back. The change has been gradual but remarkable, people who barely know me have commented that I even "look healthier."

But my insurance doesn't cover this therapy, because according to a couple of small studies, long term antibiotics don't have enough of an effect. Nevermind all the studies showing the benefits, the hundreds of thousands who have a better quality of life. These studies often funded by the insurance companies came up with not enough benefit, so they are excused from covering it.

We need funding for more research. Lives depend on it.

MSNBC has an interesting article touching on the debate.