Bright, cheerful, and hard to exterminate

Ook!

2007-11-24T06:14:26Z

Which Discworld Character are you like (with pics)
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as The Librarian

Youâ€™re the Librarian! Once a wizard, now an Orang-utan (due to an unfortunate magical accident), you refuse to be turned back for a few reasons: In this form, itâ€™s easier to reach the shelves and hold more books; having the strength of five men makes people return their books on time; lifeâ€™s great philosophical questions boil down to â€œwhen do I get my next banana?â€¿ You say â€œookâ€¿ but are usually understood well enough.

The Librarian

63%

Carrot Ironfounderson

56%

Death

50%

Gytha (Nanny) Ogg

44%

Commander Samuel Vimes

31%

Greebo

25%

Rincewind

25%

Esmerelda (Granny) Weatherwax

25%

Lord Havelock Vetinari

25%

Cohen The Barbarian

13%

Great news!

2007-06-09T18:42:00Z

I HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED TO NURSING SCHOOL!

The waiting and finger-gnawing is finally over! The hard part is just beginning! Hooray!

Sometimes I really hate the "unbiased" media...

2007-04-13T18:09:48Z

I read this story here:
http://www.katu.com/news/team2/6981292.html

I found the biased reporting utterly appalling. So I clicked "yes" on the poll asking if I think portions of Measure 11 should be repealed.

Having been invited to express my thoughts on your poll topic, I would like to
say that I am rather disgusted by the biased presentation of your report on
Measure 11 sentences. Measure 11 is forcing Oregon's Department of Corrections
to spend all of its money on housing offenders so that no money is left to treat
them. This is especially disgraceful with respect to our children.

The human brain has not reached full maturity until roughly 20-25 years of age,
so it is impossible for a 15-year-old to act with the judgment and maturity that
we expect from a grown adult. Yet Measure 11 forces us to treat these
children--children who could greatly benefit from counseling, drug and alcohol
treatment, and education--as though they were both adult offenders and
unsalvagable dregs of society.

When other young men and women are first discovering themselves in college, youth
offenders sentenced to Measure 11 prison terms are learning about violence,
racial bigotry, oppression, and resentment. This is exactly what we do NOT want
to teach our children before they become tax-paying adults in our state.

Ninety-five percent of all convicted felons are released from custody. A
15-year-old convicted of a Measure 11 crime could be 25 or 30 when released to
live in your neighborhood with absolutely no education, treatment, or preparation
to live peaceably in society. Wouldn't you rather a 17-year-old who had been
provided intensive therapy, completed a highschool education, and learned a
healthy code of ethics were released into your neighborhood instead?

Sometimes I just hate people so much.

dandelionteeth @ 2007-04-06T12:46:00

2007-04-06T19:57:54Z

Jennifer's latest news...

Hello lj readers! It has been a while since I posted, but I have a good excuse. Lots of them, really. Let me tell you what has been going on, recently.

The first thing you should know is that we have moved from our farm in the country into a house in town. Don't worry: the animals are all fine. We have a care-taker who is living in the house and taking care of everyone down at the barn. He is a nice guy and has no fear of animals or hard work. In a few years, my sister will have finished her stint with the military, and she would like to take over the farm at that point.

So why did we move? Well, there are lots of little reasons, but the main reason is that my grandmother is eighty-nine and our new house is just two doors down from hers. My grandmother is not having any problems living alone at this time, but we want to be prepared for the day if and when it comes. For her part, she is as pleased as can be. She has wanted Mom to live closer to her ever since Mom got married. Also, it's nice to be able to visit her every day.

The other nice thing about the new location is that it puts us closer to my step-daughters, who live with their mom. They are very busy girls with lives of their own, but I am hoping that closer proximity will mean that we get to see them a bit more. Even if the frequency of visits don't change, at least it will be easier for us to get together.

So my mailing address has changed, and we don't have a land-line phone number anymore. We are now a cell-phone-only accessible family, as far as telephones are concerned.

The dogs kind of like the new place. Living in town means that they only have a teeny little backyard to play in, but they get to go on walks with us every other day, which is fun. They have having some trouble, however, with the concept that they do not need to bark at every tiny noise that they hear. Hopefully they will figure this out before the neighbors complain.

The cats, by contrast, are really upset about moving to a new place and have been expressing their dissatisfaction in some distressing ways. However, they are starting to acclimatize to the new environment, and they are no longer trying to tear off their new collars, complete with name-tags. We humans see this as improvement.

Much of our worldly goods are still in boxes, many of which are sitting in the garage, glaring balefully at us. We are slowly unpacking and finding places for all our crud. I thought it was traumatic to pack stuff up and to throw it away when we were moving out, but it seems to be just as bad to unpack it and then throw it away ANYHOW as we're moving in. (We have a LOT of crud that we don't need.)

In other news, I have sent in my application to a few nursing schools and will hear back from them in May. In the meantime, I am working at the same nursing home I have been at for a while, but I am looking for something better (hey, aren't we all?).

My family and I, having totally disparate schedules and hectic lives, have recently been trying to do stuff together by, well, planning for it. Recently we saw a play at our local theater called "Stones in his pockets," which was very good, and next week we will see "Man from La Mancha." I'm looking forward to that. There are other activities outside of theater that we have been enjoying--trips up to Salem, visiting local artisan markets, attending musical events--which are starting to happen often enough that we might actually qualify for Having A Life. It's a little strange.

So, in other words, things have been busy, but everyone is doing well. Hope that this is true for all of you, too.

Tech support

2007-02-14T20:26:51Z

I just had to share this with, you know, EVERYONE.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eRjVeRbhtRU

Now I wish I could get Danish TV on cable. (Not that I am certain this is Danish...)

Heeheehee!

Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!

Stick a fork in me!

2006-12-09T19:21:12Z

I'm done! I have finished Fall term at school and now am officially on Winter Break. Yes!

My breaks once consisted of having Nothing To Do. I was free from all obligations. I never appreciated them like I should have. Now my breaks consist of ONLY having to work and ferry myself between various engagements with family and friends.

Yet I still feel lucky. Hee!

In other news, the other guy's insurance company has accepted liability. The other insurance company will even pay for a rental car! I will be taking my car in to be fixed on Monday. Poor car...

Hugs all around!

Snow is bad, bad, BAD.

2006-11-28T23:42:16Z

The good news is that I am fine. And so is the other guy.

The bad news is that my poor car needs an expensive amount of repair work after having been struck by another car on the highway.

It wasn't my fault, but it really wasn't the other guy's fault either. The road just got really slick, really fast, and he lost control of his car and ran into me. Accidents happen.

Accidents totally stink.

So I didn't make it up to Salem. I didn't see my True Love. He hasn't called yet, and I have no way to tell him what's going on. My poor car is hurt, and it will be a few days before the insurance company gets back to me. Bah, humbug.

I know that I am very lucky, but I don't feel lucky at all.

Fortunately, my mom is here to give me a hug.

Jeez, I miss Blake...

Stupid snow.

*sigh*

Television preview

2006-09-18T19:48:38Z

I have just celebrated my day off by watching a preview of the new TV show "Heroes" that I downloaded from the net. It was a legal download. No, really. I got a little promotional card and everything. Okay, you know what? Nevermind.

The show looks like it is going to be really good. Now, I'm not saying that the writers can't still screw things up royally, but the pilot was excellent. Here are some of the things I liked.

The premise: Ordinary people suddenly discovering/realizing they have super-powers. As of the first episode there is NO explanation for this--the characters who are affected are as bewildered as the people who interact with them. They are met with varying levels of receptivity from incredulity to total and unwavering belief. For the moment, this is all still on a very personal level. No news releases or global discussions. No mysterious man in a wheelchair is collecting all of these people up. Of (what appears to be) the eleven regular cast-members, only three have even met each other at this point. This is a very refreshing way to be introduced to the idea of superheroes.

The global attempt: This is television, and in television we have to work within the confines of budget, not to mention safety. So even though this story's premise is that this should be a global event, we shouldn't expect to see any part of this story taking place in--say--Botswana, Iran, or Brazil. However, the writers have still given a nice nod to multinational characters. We see a few scenes in India and MANY scenes in Japan. And for extra fun? The shots in Japan have characters actually speaking in Japanese! (Is that allowed on television?) Apparently someone in the television world has gotten the memo that Americans are actually interested in seeing things more exotic than a McDonald's commercial.

The multi-ethnicity: Of the eleven regulars, five are white and the rest aren't. There are at least two canonical bi-racial pairings, in that we have a black woman dating a latino man, and a white woman with a bi-racial son. The ethnicities of the non-white characters appear to be as follows, African-American, Latino-American, Indian, and Japanese. Not a bad mix. I'm feeling positive about it. And another thing, these characters are all from different socio-economic groups, from white-trash to extremely middle class to inherited wealth.

The characters: So far, all of these characters are sympathetic, even if you don't really like them. They all have qualities which are admirable and which are kind of pathetic. For me, I find the things that make characters unlikeable more interesting than the things that make them likeable, so I hope the writers keep up with this. So far we have a nurse, an artist, a business woman, a politician, an academic, a call-girl, a prodigy, a highschool student, and a geek. At some point we're going to get a policeman. I don't know what niche the last character will fill, but it should be interesting to find out.

The plotting: We have a LOT of tension in the plot-lines from a number of different angles. There are several unanswered questions (far and beyond the underlying "what's going on?" question) that should take a while to resolve. So far at least four of the major characters live in NYC, so that is probably where this story is going to be told, but it will be interesting to see how the outlying characters get drawn to the big apple.

Here are some things I didn't like:

Supposedly, these people are supposed to be leading ordinary lives, but the only person whose life seemed fairly ordinary was the Japanese character. Everyone else had something distinctly outside the ordinary in their lives. None of these things are inconceivable, but they are still extraordinary, and I feel like it's kind of unfair to be billing these people as average folks leading average lives.

There is a noticeable lack of humor in the writing, so far. One of the characters was humorous, but the rest are all kind of angsty. This isn't a bad thing, per se, but it would be nice if the other characters were able to recognize the absurdity of their situations. Okay, maybe I just miss Joss Whedon. I want some witty banter with my geekness. I want to laugh while I cry.

It's only the pilot and we already have two dead fathers, one absent father, and one father who just may turn out to be evil. I really hope the head writer isn't trying to work out some personal issues on-screen. I also hope that having a dead/absent father isn't going to become some kind of emotional short-hand and/or continuing plot-device that comes up in preference to something original and thoughtful.

But all in all, I thought it was a great show, and I'm dying to see how the cliff-hanger ending (literally!) gets resolved in the next episode. So if you are a geek, if you love super-heroes, or if you just want to see some extended scenes of spoken Japanese, I recommend tuning in for Heroes on Monday, September 25, on NBC.

...but I spell it "doughnut."

2006-07-04T05:48:40Z

I thought this was amusing in that it actually describes me pretty well, so I'll post it.

You Are a Glazed Donut

Okay, you know that you're plain - and you're cool with that.
You prefer not to let anything distract from your sweetness.
Your appeal is understated yet universal. Everyone dig you.
And in a pinch, you'll probably get eaten.

What Donut Are You?

Sad tidings...

2006-04-12T03:29:35Z

Today our beloved dachshund, Fritz, died of what appears to have been a massive stroke. He was feeling fine and enjoying life right up until the stroke hit, and he died shortly afterwards. He was in no pain and did not suffer.

Fritz originally belonged to my grandmother, but came into our care four years ago after he experienced a spinal cord injury. He recovered from the injury, although he always had a gimpy walk from that point onward. He was a stubborn, pushy, whiney brat with a great sense of humor, an endless desire to snuggle, and a lot of nerve.

He will be missed.

Favorite memories:

Fritz singing (well, howling) and doing the Dachsund Dinner Dance in an attempt to get us to feed him more promptly.

Fritz burrowing into a blanket to take a nice, warm nap.

Fritz running up and down the hallway with a treasured squeaky toy, making all the noise he possibly could.

I'm curious...

2006-03-12T17:48:31Z

I was reading a magazine article about working moms and stay-at-home moms, and it's got me wondering:

Gentle readers, did/does your mom have a job in addition to taking care of you? For how long?

For myself, my mom worked up until just before I was born. She took five years off to take care of my younger sister and me (during which she also finished her PhD!), and then she went back to work again. Twenty-five years later, she is still enjoying her profession and has no immediate plans to quit.

What about your moms?

Hm, it has been a while...

2006-01-30T03:02:21Z

I would like to thank cheesegirl33 for nudging me to post. *hugs you* As your reward, I'll tell you a story from my job...

We now have a little old lady who, when she desires attention (read: constantly) will call out “help! I don’t know where I am or what I’m supposed to be doing. Yoo hoo! Can you tell me what I’m supposed to be doing?”

She will go through this routine throughout EVERY MEAL. It gets really old, really fast. Imagine having to tell a woman to eat her lunch five times in a single minute. She clearly has short-term memory issues, which poses quite the challenge in daily interactions with her.

I’ve ended up developing a routine where, every time she asks for help, I tell her we're eating a meal and ask her to open her mouth. Then I pop in a large bite of food for her to spend a minute or two chewing. This seems to be working. Not only does it quiet her down (a little, anyway), but it also gets her through her meal faster.

For all that she can be a pain in the butt, this lady is also a kick. For one thing, she can play piano. I put her in front of the piano this morning before Bingo, and she just rattled off “Tea for Two,” without any trouble at all. I was impressed. Another thing I like about this lady is that, despite her confusion, she has a good sense of humor. This afternoon, when I asked her what she wanted to drink with lunch, she responded, “a glass of water or a shot of gin, whichever you can get.” *laughter!*

This lady must have been a force to reckon with before she developed Alzheimers. She demands a lot of patience, but I really enjoy working with her. She is becoming one of my favorites.

I feel oddly gratified, somehow.

2005-12-18T01:04:31Z

You are The Star

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Star is one of the great cards of faith, dreams realised

The Star is a card that looks to the future. It does not predict any immediate or powerful change, but it does predict hope and healing. This card suggests clarity of vision, spiritual insight. And, most importantly, that unexpected help will be coming, with water to quench your thirst, with a guiding light to the future. They might say you're a dreamer, but you're not the only one.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

'tis the season...

2005-12-15T02:52:13Z

To the tune Christmas is coming.

Christmas is coming,
The nurse's aides are rude!
Stick around and you will get some attitude.
We feel we're overworked and
We're understaffed as well.
And if you disagree, then you can go to hell!

A light goes out...

2005-12-06T22:58:33Z

The other morning, there was a hospice patient, “Louie,” on my block. I did my best to feed him during breakfast, but he actually wasn’t able to eat—he didn’t even have enough strength to suck on a straw to drink his orange juice. You know that thing that all kids do with feeding themselves soda-pop by putting their finger over the top of their straw, and then lifting the straw into their mouth? I used that technique to feed Louie his orange juice. I only got about 120 ml into him—that’s what, 4 oz?—but I stopped feeding him when he stopped swallowing easily. I didn’t want him to aspirate the juice. But the poor man must have been so thirsty. His tongue didn’t look wet.

Later in the morning, I followed the nurse in to assist her. (Before that sounds too glamorous, I should mention that my “assistance” involved helping turn him and clean him up while the nurse did all the real work.) Even in just the hour or so between when I fed him and that point, Louie’s breathing had become significantly more labored. But the nurse and I cleaned him up and made him as comfortable as we could. By the time we had finished, the man’s wife had arrived, so we left her to have some quiet time with him.

I made some beds, gave a shower, and laid a few people down for naps. I had noticed earlier that Louie had very long fingernails. He had been fairly self-sufficient until about two weeks ago, so I imagine that it didn’t occur to anyone that he would suddenly require nail-care. Anyway, I collected a nail clipper and emery board and wandered in to give Louie a manicure. The poor man was gasping for breath and was completely insensible to his surroundings.

There was a moment when it occurred to me that nail-care at this moment was rather pointless—it didn’t look like he was going to be around long enough to appreciate it. But then again, there was no reason not to perform this simple kindness. If nothing else, it would make his hand more pleasant to hold. His wife looked on as I trimmed his nails and filed them smooth. The whole procedure took about fifteen minutes, and then I left again.

About an hour later, Louie died. I got the news as I was passing out lunch-trays in the dining room. As sad as it was that the man had died, I was glad to hear it. He was clearly in a lot of misery just before the end, and he didn’t deserve to linger in that state for very long. His wife stopped by to speak to me before she left—she wanted to thank me for trimming Louie’s nails. I gave her a hug and my condolences. This woman has been waiting for the end for a very long time—Louie has been in residence here for months—but now she can finally grieve his loss and start to heal. I hope she has a good support network to comfort her in the coming weeks.

Today, the world is a wonderful place.

2005-12-03T02:47:00Z

I am so happy.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

2005-11-24T17:17:44Z

Here are some of the many things I am thankful for:

The continued love of the_nightsky and her family, even though I am not there to share this holiday with them (Sorry, cheesegirl33!). *hugs!*

The delightful and wonderful camaraderie of moosaic4, who has also forgiven me for not visiting recently, even though I am only a two-hour drive away.

The light and laughter of vixyish and tfabris.

The solid friendship of mackiedockie, and her continual goading to try and get me to resume writing. (I notice you have been posting! You go, girl!) Someday, her efforts will be rewarded.

The sweet music, vibrant colors, and constant excitement of cflute.

The endless entertainment, humor, acceptance, and insight that comes from my friends hypgnosis, Stef, jrtom, Megan, Derek, Jeff, and Kathy.

The steady calm and understanding from pondside and her paramour.

The long-distance friendship (which I have also been neglecting--aah!) of my best-friend-in-Germany, rike_tikki_tavi. I *will* come and visit you again! I just don't know when!!! (Hugs to your Dad.)

The hours (and hours and hours) of amusement that all my lj-friends bring to me! I send my gratitude out to those who I have friended, those who have friended me, and everyone in-between!

My family and the endless love and support they offer me.

I am thankful for the small kindnesses which random people have extended to me throughout the year.

I am thankful for the amazing love of my life and the joy which his family has brought me. This love is irreplacable.

Um...okay, there may be many other important things that I am thankful for that I have forgotten to list, here. If that is the case, feel free to add things which you think I should be thankful for. Or, even better, add things that YOU are thankful for!

screw-ups and successes

2005-11-18T07:29:29Z

Okay, so there is this one woman, “Carol” who is very thin and very curled up, but in most cases, she is relatively easy for one person to transfer from her bed to her wheelchair.

Unfortunately, today was the exception. Carol was being especially wiggly (she kicked me! I have this lovely bruise just under my knee) and right after I had lifted her out of bed she squirmed away from me. I didn’t drop her, but I did end up easing us both to the floor. I tucked a blanket under her head so she wouldn’t be face-down on the cold floor and immediately ran for help. The aide who helped me was extremely understanding and did not say anything except “it happens.” Well, and also that it was a good thing that the resident care manager didn’t catch Carol on the floor—she would have had a fit. (And really, how could I argue?)

So, I totally screwed up transferring Carol to her chair, but she didn’t get hurt, and that’s the most important thing. And I now know that I really need to have help getting her up and down, even if other aides can do it alone. Urf.

But on the bright side, I got my scheduled shower done in a timely manner. I was initially a little worried because the lady in question doesn’t like to get up in the morning and she had refused her previous two showers. (I don’t understand this—you feel so much better after you are all clean!) But I was insanely cheerful and jollied little “Dinah” along all the way to the shower room. She did initially refuse her shower, but I just kept getting her things ready anyway and by the time I had her change of clothes and shower-gear ready, she was willing to get washed. Go me!

Dinah is an absolute hoot. She is 99 years old, has been married three times, raised three sons (two of whom are still living), and has a lively sense of humor. She is essentially wheelchair bound and occasionally incontinent, and in the early mornings she tends to ask questions like “are you afraid to die?” and make statements like “I’m afraid I’ll go to hell and burn forever.” However, once she has been up for an hour or so, she starts asking questions like “are you married?” and making statements like “you’re a stubborn little thing…good for you!”

My job is so incredibly exhausting...but it's fun, too.

Shiny!

2005-11-14T04:41:02Z

http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=79387

You scored as Shepherd Derrial Book. The Preacher. Out here, folks need a minister, if only to remind them that God hasn't forgotten them. It isn't about making them worship, it is teaching them to do right by themselves and other people. Why is that so hard for some to understand?

</td>

Shepherd Derrial Book

69%

Simon Tam

56%

Capt. Mal Reynolds

50%

The Operative

50%

Hoban 'Wash' Washburne

50%

Zoe Alleyne Washburne

50%

River Tam

50%

Kaylee (Kaywinnet Lee) Frye

38%

Inara Serra

19%

Jayne Cobb

19%

Which Serenity character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

Hee hee hee!

2005-11-11T17:31:25Z

One of the patients recuperating (I think from a hip injury) at our facility tends to be very disoriented. She will flag aides down, and once the aide is by her side she will ask, “what am I supposed to be doing?” or sometimes, “where am I?” I’m not entirely convinced that she is really this disoriented; it may be that she has word-finding issues and this is just a catch-phrase that she uses to express her distress. There’s no way for me to be sure.

At one point during the day, I was taking this woman to use the toilet. It was a little frustrating because when I would be trying to get her out of her wheelchair and onto the toilet, she would stop and ask, “what am I doing?” Thankfully, she wasn’t very heavy or this would have been hard on my back. I tried to be patient with her, though. When she would ask what was happening I would always respond with an honest answer like, “we’re standing up to get to the toilet,” or “we’re sitting down on the toilet.”

When I was transferring her back from the toilet to her wheelchair, she once again demanded to know what we were doing. I responded by telling her, “we’re parking your rump in this chair right here!” To this, she looked up at me and ingenuously asked, “both cheeks?”

LOL!

OryCon report!

2005-11-09T00:21:43Z

This past weekend was all about OryCon! Mom and I had a wonderful time, and I hope everyone else did, too. It was great to see all of my friends (if for only a little while) and to geek out with them. Whee!

Friday, October 14, 2005

First, let me talk about the hotel. We stayed at the Marriott on the waterfront in Portland. This hotel was well-located, nicely appointed, had a knowledgeable and helpful staff, well-lit rooms of a reasonable size—both in terms of places to hold a panel and places for tired conners to sleep, had reasonable room-rates for what you got, and the restaurant, while expensive, was quick, convenient, and reasonably yummy. With all these good things going for it, what could possibly go wrong?

Well, this is a con, of course, and the day nothing goes wrong at a con is the day you commit yourself to a mental hospital because you’ve clearly lost touch with reality. The problem with the Marriott actually made itself apparent immediately, and can be summed up in a single word: elevators. There were a grand total of four elevators to carry nearly one-thousand conners up some sixteen floors. This would not have actually been too great a problem but for one small point: the stairs were unavailable for simple floor-to-floor excursions.

Yes, that’s right! If you wanted to get from the third floor to the fourth floor, you had to wait twenty minutes for an elevator. Apparently the stairs were designed for emergency use only, and if open the doors leading in or out, an alarm would sound. This did not significantly impede the progress of people moving from panel to panel, but it did cause a lot of problems for people who, for example, wanted to dart quickly up to their room and change into their costumes just before the masquerade ball.

Other than this teeny-huge problem, the hotel was practically perfect in every way.

I knew this was going to be a great con right from the beginning, because it started out with some wonderful adventures. Shortly after we arrived (and checked in, and dumped our stuff in our room, and finally made it back down to where we needed to be), Mom, mackiedockie, Jeff, and I visited the hospitality suite in hopes of finding something vaguely edible to sustain us through the evening. To our surprise and pleasure, the con-suite actually had baked potatoes, of all things, and condiments to make them tasty.

While we were scarfing down our nice little meal, Mom got into a conversation with a blind man whose guide dog (named Bingo) was a Doberman pinscher with floppy ears and a long tail. It turns out that the clipped ears and stubby tail that most people associate with Dobermans are mutilations that dog-breeders inflict upon them because Dobermans have a history of being a fighting dog. Dogs will do better in a fight (whether against a human or another dog) if they don’t have anything to grab onto, like floppy ears or a waggy tail. At some point, the conformation of clipped ears and tail became standard, and all Dobies were marked this way regardless of their intended use. I didn’t exactly hear how this gentleman managed to spare Bingo this fate, but I suspect the guide dog breeders wanted their dogs to a) have a friendly appearance to folks and b) not be mutilated.

Ah, the things you can learn at a con. I love the randomness that you can run across just because you have so many different people from so many different walks of life converging onto a single location for the specific purpose of being weird in good company. Another fine example of this happened when I met up with my friend, Kempe. Kempe has just finished medical school at Duke University, and is now interning at OHSU. mackiedockie is from Idaho and has worked a series of mediocre jobs before finally landing a good job at the local library, where she has flourished. She now attends library conventions and wears buttons that say things like, “Librarians control all knowledge.” Lots of fun.

Anyway. Kempe and I had just stepped out of a filk circle to say hi to each other, when mackiedockie ran into us. mackiedockie and Kempe had already met, but it was over three years ago, so I reintroduced them to each other. mackiedockie was immediately interested in Kempe’s medical degree. It turned out that mackiedockie was trying to organize an information session for the seniors in her community to teach them what they need to know about Medicare. Kempe, who also has a masters in public policy (they offered it at Duke, and I guess she felt that just getting an MD was not a great enough challenge—this isn’t too surprising if you know Kempe), actually knew a bit about the situation, but more importantly, she knew where to direct mackiedockie to get MORE information. Networking at a scifi/fantasy con! I love it. I privately puffed up with pride that I had helped facilitate this.

I have attended OryCon in the past, but this was a very different con for me in that I spent a lot more time in the music and art circles than I ever have in the past. I only attended four or five proper panels during the whole con. All the rest was filking with the occasional art-demo. But boy was some of the music good.

Due to a misprint in the pocket program, we missed hearing Cecelia Eng’s concert (dang!), but we did get to hear Frank Hayes. Mom thinks he’s wonderful, and I made sure to purchase his CD (appropriately titled “Never Set the Cat on Fire”) so she can start learning his songs. Mom likes a lot of the “classic” filks that she heard for the first time this weekend, and now she wants to learn them so she can sing along with everyone else when they are played. Mom is so great. I can’t decide if this is just her desire to participate or her determination NOT to be left behind at work. But I don’t care. I’m just glad she had a good time and wants to continue attending cons in the future.

Hm, what were some of the songs that caught my memory this evening? admnaismith performed some wonderful political songs. The two I remember the best are "More Meat”, which was a thinly veiled criticism of the US’s involvement in the Iraqi war, and a song about how the illegally erected cross was finally removed from Skinner’s Butte. That was funny. Heh. pondside performed Count the White Horses, singing with her dulcimer. cflute and Cindy sang How Far Back Does Music Go? which made me a little wistful—it needed a bass. cflute was in fine voice this evening, although her foot was propped up and in a brace.

Agh, it’s becoming clear that I’m suffering from con-time, because I can’t remember what order many of these things happened in. At some point in the evening, I ran into Edward, Kempe, and their children Isaac (age 2) and Clarissa (age 4 and a half). At that time, I was responsible for keeping an eye on Felicity Flitterkitty, pondside’s plush cat with blue and green butterfly-wings. (This thing could have come right out of some piece of con-art, I swear.) Isaac was immediately taken with this toy, and for the two or so hours that I spent with him, he held her in a firm and fond embrace. Eventually, I had to ask for the flitterkitty back, and, like a gentleman, he returned it to me, but I felt like a cad. If that cat had belonged to me, I would have given it to him. If I had seen another cat like it at the con, I would have bought it for him. He was SO CUTE with that toy!

But while Isaac was communing with flitterkitty, I was having a lot of fun playing with Clarissa. I let her wear my glittery, eyelash scarf, and would hold her hand as she dragged me around at a run. Hee! At one point she led me out onto the con dance floor and we had fun bouncing around to the music. (I won’t call what we did dancing. I’m pretty sure the four-year-old was more graceful and coordinated than I.) We had a good time together. In the meantime, Mom had a lot of fun chatting with Kempe and Edward, who I hope were enjoying the free baby-sitting (I sure was). All in all, it was a fun evening. It was a great way to introduce Mom to a con.

Saturday, November 5, 2005

Okay, let me think about what happened today. Our first panel was the colored pencil demo by Mark Ferrari. I didn’t take as many notes as I ought to have. I thought I would remember more, but it turns out that I don’t. Sorry about that.

Here’s what I do remember: Mark uses PrismaColor pencils which are produced by Sanford. He likes the waxy and not-too-soft quality of these pencils for his work. He finds they allow him to blend and smear color nicely. The paper he uses is 2-ply vellum Bristol Board, produced by Bristol Paper. He urges everyone to use the professional grade, NOT the cheaper grade for art students. Of course, it is likely that you will not get to make these kind of choices regarding the tools you work with, but I’ll pass along the information anyway, since it’s one of the few things I had the sense to write down.

Other tips that he offered included the order in which you lay down pencil on the paper. The first layer of pencil will cling to the paper. It is very hard to move around, blend, or smear. You want to lay the first layer down very carefully. However, the second layer and all subsequent layers are very easy to blend, move, lift, etc.

Mark generally uses a white pencil for burnishing. However, there are also circumstances in which he finds it appropriate to use a clear pencil (literally a pencil with no pigment) or a pencil of another color. Mark rarely uses a burnisher (I think moosaic4 calls them smudgers) for the purpose of burnishing. He recommends that everyone remember to clean their burnisher, whatever they choose to use, before applying it to a new color. This will save much cursing and swearing. He also recommends using burnishing carefully. Don’t burnish things which ought to have a textured appearance: lips, roots of hair, denim, etc.

He had a number of pointers on other drawing aspects, but I don’t remember them. The only other thing that I have managed to keep is in regards to coloring faces. When laying on the color for faces, begin with the outside shadow color, fill inward with the medium color and then the lighter color, but when using the highlight color (for Caucasians, this tends to be white) color the highlight in first and then move out to burnish and smear the other colors together. This ensures that the highlights are never marred with a dark color, and that the other colors will have a smooth transition into each other.

After Mark, we moved on to filkertom and his Speedfilking session. Basically, this was filkertom doing what he does best. He would literally have one half of the room toss out one word, the other half a second one, and then someone would pick a musical style, and he would immediately turn out a song. The best one was a tango using the words “magic” and “auto-defenestrate.” Mom was immediately smitten with his witty patter and also his honesty regarding the amount of practice such a skill demands. (I, of course, had already decided I liked him because of songs like “Talk like a Pirate Day” and “Superman Sex-life Boogie.”)

My favorite comment during this session, however, was a serious one. filkertom was refuting the assertion that puns are the lowest form of humor. He argued that it was actually the highest form of humor, because the only way you could get the pun was to have enough background knowledge to recognize the word-play. You wouldn’t laugh at “Smurfin’ Safari” if you didn’t know anything about the Smurfs, for example. This means that the ability to make and understand good puns is directly proportional to your span and scope of knowledge. I liked this explanation. I felt like he was finally putting to words something that I had known was true.

Following filkertom, we had a fun Jam in the Key of R. The only thing missing from the panel was cflute. I still don’t know why she wasn’t there, but it was too bad she was delayed. Still, everyone had a good time playing favorites and just doodling around.

Then vixyish and tfabris had a wonderful concert together as the new Escape Key. vixyish was wonderful, as always—her voice and stage presence remain unparalleled. I liked her covers of “Like the Moon,” and of “Archetype Café.” And her original works were delightful.

From there we segued into filkertom’s concert. I don’t quite know how to describe it except to say that everyone had a wonderful time, and Mom wants to hear all the songs about Fenton the Sheep. Oh, and squee! He played “Superman Sex-life boogie!”

At this point, Mom and I wandered down to attend a panel with Mark Ferrari and Mom’s friend, Dianna Rodgers—Inside the Villain’s Mind. This was a fun discussion of what makes a good villain, although really everything that they talked about would be good points to consider for any character a story, heroes and villains alike.

One of the things discussed was the villain’s intent versus the actual impact of his actions. What did the villain intend to happen, what actually happened, and how does the villain rationalize away the gap between the reality and the ideal? Mark and Dianna both had a lot to say about this. One of the interesting comments that Mark made was concerning Pol Pot’s death-bed statements, in which it becomes very clear that his intent to create a better world was very far removed from the actual killing fields of Cambodia.

They both discussed the importance of figuring out things like “what does the villain fear?” and “what is the villain’s pain?” Even if you never put these things down on the page, it is an important thing to have in your mind so that your villain’s behavior remains internally consistent. You need to understand what motivates the villain to do whatever evil deed that the hero ends up having to fight and/or rectify.

The point, of course, is to make the villain a real person to the reader. This is the challenge, because everyone, readers and writers alike, wants to believe that villains are fundamentally different from the average person, and certainly from heroes. One of the points that Mark and Dianna made again and again was that no one wakes up one morning, rubs their hands together with a sinister chuckle and decides, “I think I’ll be evil.” And yet so often, this is what we would like to believe…but when we read it on the page or see it on the screen, we don’t buy it.

After the panel, Mom and I went over to congratulate Dianna on a job well done. When she asked, “do you both write?” Mom turned and said, “well, Jennifer does…” Gah! Then I have a well-meaning published author asking me what I write, and when I’m ready to publish, will I let her know? *sigh* It’s a very nice thought, but I feel like it’s false advertising to call myself a writer when I haven’t written a story in well over a year and I have no serious plans to do so in the upcoming year. I mean, sure, I’d like to, but what’s the likelihood it will actually come to fruition?

By this time we were all feeling hungry (we’d all skipped lunch in favor of filk), so it was off to dinner at the hotel restaurant! Our party was comprised of me, Mom, mackiedockie, moosaic4 and Dan, tfabris and vixyish, and Scott and Ariel. Dinner was plenty of fun. We chatted about a variety of topics (often the conversation would turn to you) and just generally enjoyed each other’s company. Everyone had fun hearing Mom’s impressions of her first con. It’s so much fun to have a new convert in your midst.

shaddyr joined us for a glass of water while we ate and then departed as quickly as she came. We were sorry she couldn’t stay longer. Just as we were all finishing, cflute showed up and sat down to order. I wanted to stay longer to talk with her, but I had to head up to our room to put on my costume. I donned the green sari-outfit that moosaic4 gave me and the fairy wings Derek gave me. Thus adequately garbed for the con, I re-emerged for more fun and games.

The next appointment on my agenda was cflute’s concert! I thought that she gave a wonderful performance full of old favorites and some fun new material as well. She conscripted vixyish, Cindy, tfabris, and pondside and Douglas from the audience at various intervals. (Actually, I’m pretty sure they had prepared this ahead of time.) They all sounded really good. Of course, I can’t remember a darned thing she performed (why didn’t I take notes?), so I can’t provide a song-list, here.

Then we moved into tfabris’s concert. He also had some back-up help in the form of vixyish and cflute. Like cflute, he had a mix of new creations and old-goodies. He also performed a fair number of cover-tunes quite creditably. Again, I can’t remember what he actually sang…ooh, wait, yes I can. He and vixyish performed “Revolution Earth,” by the B-52s. I remember because tfabris made a reference to Dr. Who, which can only be seen in the US by bit-torrent pirating and vixyish said “…which you should never do…” while looking suspiciously innocent. Heh.

After the formal concerts, the room opened up into a general filk chaos circle (last night was bardic). Once again, we saw a wide range of talent on display, from the droll humor of filkertom to the elegance of pondside’s dulcimer and voice. Much to my disappointment, Frank Hayes didn’t stay very long. I think he may have been feeling under the weather.

At ten minutes to midnight, I took Mom down to the dance so we could all enjoy “Time Warp” and “Rasputin” together. But much to my dismay, the bleeping DJ had already played those songs! I can’t believe I missed them! Worse than that, I apparently also missed seeing hypgnosis, Stephani, and Derek on the dance floor, even though I had specifically been looking for all three of them. This is all the more horrifying because Derek was apparently wearing so many blinky-lights on his costume that he looked like a Christmas tree on methamphetamines. I am SO MAD I missed that!

Having missed the best part of the dance, we returned to filking for more fannish goodness. Much fun was had, though Mom was getting tired and, frankly, so was I. We eventually made our excuses and grabbed the first available elevator and headed up to our room for some well-deserved sleep. Of course, sleep did not come immediately. We sat up for a little while and chatted about the music we had heard, the costumes we had seen, and our thoughts regarding the con as a whole. By this point Mom was really grasping the overall nature of the con culture (weird and wonderful), which I thought was neat.

Sunday, November 6, 2005

The day started with waking up to a very pleasant phone call, but once that was over, Mom and I had to get our rears in gear. We needed to shower, dress, pack, and check out of the room before we met everyone for breakfast at 10:30. We correctly reasoned that we would not have time after breakfast to check out before noon. One would assume that an hour and a half would be plenty of time, but we actually arrived at the meeting place a few minutes late. This was not a problem, though, as everyone else arrived even later.

While waiting, we met up with Jeff, who we hadn’t expected to see, but we immediately invited him to join our table despite the fact that he had nearly finished eating. Happily, he agreed to do so. This is one of my favorite parts of any con: meeting people at random (whether you know them or not) and making them a part of your group. It’s just a great way to live. We eventually accrued a respectable number of people, all sitting at a round table, and chatting happily away as we snarfed our breakfast down. The table consisted of the following, moving clockwise: mackiedockie, runnerwolf (whom I had just met), Stephani, Douglas, pondside, Jeff, Mom, hypgnosis, moosaic4, and me.

In a group this large, it’s nearly impossible to follow all the conversations and I didn’t even try. I did see, however, that Mom and Jeff were having a very lively conversation across the table, hypgnosis and moosaic4 were yakking it up in good form, pondside, Stef, and runnerwolf got very involved on some topic I completely missed, and mackiedockie and I had some fun catching up and swapping impressions and experiences of the con. It was excellent. I was only sorry that we hadn’t managed to get all these people together sooner.

Predictably, we almost didn’t finish breakfast in time to get to the noon music panel “Filk Classics.” Fortunately, everyone was moving slowly on Sunday morning, so we didn’t miss a thing. I ran into Edward and his children again during this panel. I enjoyed this because it meant I had another chance to play with the kids while their dad was busy geeking out to the music. Sadly, I think the kids were too young to really enjoy the music itself, which was kind of a shame. Still, I couldn’t help but feel flattered when Clarissa leaned over to me and said, “I want to go play outside with you.”

I’m afraid I didn’t indulge her—I wanted to hear Frank Hayes play “Cat on Fire” again. However, when Clarissa complained of being hungry, I did give her and Isaac my left-over banana from breakfast, which both children seemed to appreciate. I don’t remember everything about being a child, but I do remember that when you are a kid, being hungry is nearly unbearable. I try to stay sympathetic to that as a grown-up.

The room that was reserved for Filk Classics was also reserved for Harmony Workshop and Songwriting, and all of these panels sort of morphed into each other as the hours passed, which was great. Nevertheless, during the music I stepped out briefly to visit the dealer’s room (I hadn’t had a chance to really browse all weekend!), and purchased some CDs for Mom’s and my enjoyment.

I came back to the filk room and bought CDs from filkertom directly. (Hey, if he’s making his living at this, now, I want to support the guy!) He was very appreciative. I wish I had been able to make some kind of conversation with him beyond “great songs, me likey,” but nothing ever presented itself as a likely topic. Oh well. He was cool. If the fates are with me, someday I may speak to him like a person instead of just a fan. Otherwise, being a fan of filkertom is pretty cool, too.

At last, our beloved con had come to an end for another year. There was much hugging and promises to write and see each other again soon. I will be seeing hypgnosis and company at the Solstice Party, if not sooner. I think moosaic4 will probably murder me if I make her wait even that long. And there were assurances that we would attend Pondfilk and various housefilks at admnaismith’s. I’m looking forward to all these things. I don’t know when we’ll see vixyish and tfabris again, or Douglas and pondside for that matter. I need to NOT let another three years go by before I see mackiedockie again. I’ll have to work something out.

It’s always sad to say goodbye, but Mom and I stopped by the PorSFiS chocolate tasting on our way out to glut our sorrows. Everything is better with chocolate. Especially when the chocolate is broken off a giant slap and handed to you in a heavy hunk. Mmmm. We grabbed enough to console ourselves all the way back home.

Mom and I had thought that we would listen to some of our newly-acquired filk CDs as we drove back to Eugene, but we ended up talking the entire way. Mom had a really good time. It was funny because she would say things like “there were a lot of people my age,” and “I fit right in,” and I was always like, “I know! I told you all of this a million times! What, did you think I was kidding?” But boy was it fun to be right for a change.

So, that was it for an awesome con. I’m looking forward to reading other people’s impressions and adventures from the weekend.

[Edit: Waah! What am I doing wrong with the lj user names? And the cut tag?]
[Edit redux: Thanks, I figured it out. Stupid MS Word smart-quotes...]

Off to OryCon!

2005-11-04T16:41:18Z

Okay, folks! I'm headed up to OryCon for some geeky goodness. If you never see or hear of me again, it's because my people finally came for me and brought me back to the mothership. ;oD

To all who go bump in the night...

2005-10-31T18:32:36Z

Happy Halloween everyone! Whether you are trick-or-treating, attending a costume party, or just snuggling up with a bowl of candy and your favorite spooky film, let's hear it for the celebration of everything dark, mysterious, and unearthly.

This has always been a favorite holiday of mine. I loved getting dressed up, putting on the otherwise forbidden make-up (NOW I understand why Mom didn't want me to wear eyeshadow when I was eight), and running around the neighborhood in the dark, gleaning candy from friendly neighbors. My preferred costume back then was Princess Leia (complete with lightsaber!), because, hey, she was a princess and she could fight beside Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. How cool was that? My most carefully hoarded candy was Snickers bars--not those teeny squares you get now, but the mini-candy-bars that you ate in two bites.

If you like, please feel free to comment on your favorite part of Halloween, or what special significance this holiday has for you.

It's amazing!

2005-10-30T23:06:39Z

After thousands of dollars in tuition and board...

Three years of non-stop study...

A year of waiting...

And countless hours of agonized wailing due to the unfeeling administration...

I FINALLY RECEIVED MY MASTER'S DEGREE.

Yes, it finally happened! Gallaudet sent my diploma indicating my Masters of Science in Audiology. They also sent a complimentary transcript, indicating my 3.723 GPA. I did a damned fine job at that school, and all they did was crap on me. I am so glad to be out of there. *wipes forehead*

Of course, this doesn't actually do me any good, practically speaking. I can't use this to make more money or gain prestige or anything. But it nevertheless feels good to have all of my hard work acknowledged, after all this time. Yay!

So, the other day...

2005-10-24T20:20:49Z

...I drove out to our sister facility in Junction City. This was surprisingly uncomplicated, considering I have never been there before. Following the directions given to me by my boss (supplemented by directions from MapQuest), I arrived at work on time. Go me!

I walked in the front door and immediately met up with Kathy, who also works at our facility in Eugene and was willing to show me the ropes. Together, the two of us worked a block of ten rooms; each room had between one and three people, and I would guess that we took care of about 22 people total. That’s a lot. One CNA shouldn’t take care of more than ten people, by law, and ideally it shouldn’t be more than eight. So, none of the scheduled showers got done, but otherwise Kathy and I kicked butt on the floor. Well, Kathy kicked butt; I kind of did some support-personnel butt prodding.

The only hard part of the day was when Kathy went to lunch, leaving me to answer the call-lights. This wouldn’t really have been a problem (anything that needed two people could theoretically wait until Kathy returned) except that one of the lights required me to deal with a combative patient. This patient, “Abe” was pointed out to me early in the shift because he used to be a professional boxer. I was warned to be aware that Abe has been known to take a swing at aides, and I should be careful.

The problem was that Abe had wandered into someone else’s room and didn’t want to leave. He was convinced that the room was his, and the other person was an intruder sleeping in his bed. I couldn’t leave Abe with the patient, as I was honestly worried about safety issues. But Abe didn’t want to leave and was actively resisting my attempts to wheel him out of the room—he held onto counter-tops and jammed his feet into the floor, etc. Okay, this is bad. You don’t want to be in a situation where you are bullying a patient. But you also don’t want to be in a situation where you are leaving a patient in an unsafe situation.

So, I’m trying to cajole Abe into a better mood. I try to tell him that his room is actually somewhere else (which it is, but he doesn’t believe it) and that I’ll take him there and lie him down if he’ll just let me do so. Abe responds to this by cursing and hitting me in the stomach. The angle was awkward for him, so he didn’t actually hurt me, but it was a really weird feeling to have been hit by a patient. I felt angry that he hit me in the first place, ashamed that I hadn’t avoided the punch (I had been warned, after all), afraid that he would hit me again—this time with real force, and worried that this situation might surpass my ability to manage.

Abe actually did take a few more swings at me, but this time I was prepared and easily stayed out of reach. Eventually what happened was that an aide from a different section showed up to help me out. She would pry his hand up from whatever he was clutching onto (carefully avoiding his attempts to hit her), and I would quickly wheel him back as far as I could before he could grab onto something again. Eventually we got him into the middle of the hallway where he couldn’t grab anything anymore and we were able to just drag him back (cursing us every step of the way) in his wheelchair until we got him to his room. At that point, I took my lunch; I hadn’t had a break up until that point anyway.

The rest of the day was relatively uneventful. The faces were different, but the poop was the same. I don’t think I did too badly considering that I didn’t know who anyone was, what they needed, or where to get supplies. Okay, so I was a raging newbie, but Kathy didn’t seem annoyed with me, so I’m calling it good.