THIS MAKES STEAM COME OUT MY EARS!

Thanks to Zoraster for pointing out the confusion this post could cause, if it's not apparent that I've blockquoted an e-mail in here. Below that is my commentary on it. Here's the quote:

CHRISTMAS STAMP

Look who is getting their own 'Christmas stamp', but don't plan on putting a Nativity Scene on federal property?

USPS New Stamp

This one is impossible to believe. Scroll down for the text.


If there is only one thing you forward today.....let it be this!




REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of PanAm Flight 103!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the World Trade Center in 1993!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the Marine barracks in Lebanon!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the military barracks in Saudi Arabia!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the American Embassies in Africa!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the USS COLE!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM attack on 9/11/2001!

REMEMBER all the AMERICAN lives that were lost in those vicious MUSLIM attacks!

Now the United States Postal Service REMEMBERS and HONORS the EID MUSLIM holiday season with a commemorative first class
holiday postage stamp.


REMEMBER to adamantly and vocally BOYCOTT this stamp when purchasing your stamps at the post office.

To use this stamp would be a slap in the face to all those AMERICANS who died at the hands of those whom this stamp honors.

REMEMBER to pass this along to every patriotic AMERICAN you know!

And here's my commentary:
Okay, this is what pisses me off about that e-mail. I got it from otherwise well-meaning and (I believe) good Christian members of my family. They fell for the inflammatory rhetoric in the message, just as their friends did, and just as each of their friends did in a long chain going back to the year 2002 when this first started.

This message assumes that because the participants in the above-mentioned terrorist activities claimed to be Muslim that they represent all Muslims and that, as a result, Islam doesn't deserve a place in the US. Timothy McVeigh claimed to be Christian, but Christian groups don't claim him. The same is true of these terrorist groups. They're called "extremists" for a REASON. Their beliefs are extreme, outside the accepted mainstream of the religions they claim to represent. The fact that a religion sprouts extremist splinter groups does not lead to the logical conclusion that the religion itself (or its peaceful mainstream practitioners) should be denigrated.

Another gaping hole in the logic here is that the author equates Eid Al-Fitr (or Eid Al-Adha, they both use the same stamp) with Christmas. News flash: Muslims don't worship Jesus as a God or celebrate his birth as a Holy Day. There is no correlation between them. The first holiday mentioned (Eid Al-Fitr) is the end of Ramadan, a month of daytime fasting that roughly parallels the Christian season of Lent in a spiritual sense of self-denial, sacrifice, and preparation. There is no theological relationship. The second (Eid Al-Adha) celebrates Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son Ishmael at God's command. Note that in Christianity the tradition holds that Abraham was commanded to sacrifice his son Isaac (child of his wife Sarah) and not Ishmael (son of Sarah's handmaiden).

Next, it ties the introduction of this stamp, which is part of a series celebrating holidays of several cultural and religious traditions (Christmas, Kwanzaa, Thanksgiving, Cinco de Mayo, Hanukkah) to the placement of Nativity Scenes on federal property in observation of Christian holidays. If there was an Eid stamp, and no Christmas stamp, I could see a problem. That would constitute (in my mind) favoritism of the Islamic observations of Eid Al-Fitr and Eid Al-Adha over the Christian observation of Christmas. However, that IS NOT THE CASE. Anyone who's been to the post office lately knows that the USPS is happy to help you with all your Christmas needs, including selling you stamps with sacred or "festive" (read: non-religious) Christmas designs. So, the religions are being roughly equally represented at the post office. What this e-mail does, though, is tap into the festering heat surrounding the political issue of religious symbology (like "10 Commandments" memorials or nativity scenes) on public property. It's clever, rhetorically, to tie these two unrelated issues together, because it pulls along those readers who favor the placement of religious symbols on public property. You've probably gathered by now that I don't favor such placement, unless it's done in a completely representative way. If Nativity Scenes are placed in front of the post office at Christmas, then we need Skeletons for Dia de los Muertos, Menorahs for Hanukkah, green flags for Hajj, and Mugs of Marinara for Pastafarian Day, etc.

Okay, I'm done steaming. Just remember, when you buy those Christmas cards that say "Peace on Earth! Goodwill to Men!" that you're asking the recipients (hey, maybe even your own self!) to show Good Will to All Men, not just "Good Christian Men". As the Archbishop Desmond Tutu said recently: "All, all, all, all, all, all, all, all. All belong."

And, for the love of $Deity, learn to use SNOPES.

This result makes me ridiculously happy. I've always loved Katherine Hepburn's work. She's my favorite classic dame of all time, this quiz notwithstanding. One of the greatest lines of all time, regarding marriage, is attributed to her:

Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then. ~Katherine Hepburn

The sentiment was turned into a pretty darn good song by KT Oslin on her "Live Close By, Visit Often" album. She tweaked the words a bit, as you can see from the song title, but in numerous interviews she credited Hepburn's quote (and Hepburn herself) as the inspiration for the song.

Katharine Hepburn You scored 26% grit, 23% wit, 42% flair, and 23% class!

You are the fabulously quirky and independent woman of character. You go your own way, follow your own drummer, take your own lead. You stand head and shoulders next to your partner, but you are perfectly willing and able to stand alone. Others might be more classically beautiful or conventionally woman-like, but you possess a more fundamental common sense and off-kilter charm, making interesting men fall at your feet. You can pick them up or leave them there as you see fit. You share the screen with the likes of Spencer Tracy and Cary Grant, thinking men who like strong women. Find out what kind of classic leading man you'd make by taking the Classic Leading Man Test.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 67% on grit You scored higher than 30% on wit You scored higher than 63% on flair You scored higher than 41% on class

Link: The Classic Dames Test written by gidgetgoes on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

meme on geek stuff...

You Passed 8th Grade Science

Congratulations, you got 8/8 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Science?

i think it's especially geeky that i noticed they misspelled "neutron" and inadvertently asked me what the charge is on a neuron. (bonus points if you can tell me the right answer!)

Zyrtec

Is my friend! I've been using Zyrtec as needed and my nasal allergy spray religiously since I had so much trouble last week after I wrapped up the steroid treatment for the asthma. Yea, it's working! I can breathe again! I can even talk to my dog while we're walking and use the stairs at work. Breathing is SO NOT OVERRATED.

it made my ears bleed...

Sunday night I was driving through Waco on my way home, and I was subjected to Waco's "best" radio station for a while. A song by Trace Adkins came on, and I believe the title (according to the info showing on my radio dial) was "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk". I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP!

The long lesson to be learned here is "Don't listen to Waco radio late at night." The short lesson to be learned here is "Thou shalt not use the phrase 'She's got it goin' on like Donkey Kong' unless thou canst prove thy street cred." Let me just inform you, gentle readers, that Trace Adkins has got no street cred. This song should never have been written, let alone recorded. So that you might better experience this lesson, I have lovingly copied the lyrics for this piece of "music" from Cowboy Lyrics and you will find them below. Enjoy!

Turn it up some
Alright boys, this is her favorite song
You know that right
So, if we play it good and loud
She might get up and dance again
Ooh, she put her beer down
Here she comes
Here she comes
Left left left right left
Whoo

Husslers shootin' eightball
Throwin' darts at the wall
Feelin' damn near 10 ft. tall
Here she comes, Lord help us all
Ol' T.W.'s girlfriend done slapped him outta his chair
Poor ole boy, it ain't his fault
It's so hard not to stare
At that honky tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on
Like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There outta be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how's she even get them britches on
That honky tonk badonkadonk
(Aww son)

Now Honey, you can't blame her
For what her mama gave her
You ain't gotta hate her
For workin' that money-maker
Band shuts down at two
But we're hangin' out till three
We hate to see her go
But love to watch her leave
With that honky tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on
Like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There outta be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how's she even get them britches on
With that honky tonk badonkadonk
(Ooh, that's what I'm talkin' bout right there, honey)

We don't care bout the drinkin'
Barely listen to the band
Our hands, they start a shakin'
When she gets the urge to dance
Drivin' everybody crazy
You think you fell in love
Boys, you better keep your distance
You can look but you can't touch
That honkey tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on
Like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There outta be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how's she even get them britches on
That honky tonk badonkadonk

That honky tonk badonkadonk
Yeah, that honky tonk badonkadonk

(That's it, right there boys, that's why we do what we do
It ain't for the money, it ain't for the glory, it ain't for the free whiskey
It's for the badonkadonk)

geek thanksgiving

I swiped this from my friend Vulpine who, i believe, swiped it from someone else in turn...

Signs You're Having Thanksgiving Dinner with a Geek

1. Dark meat is separated from white meat using a light probe.


2. Everyone mentions broadband, Linux or dual-core processors in
   their "I am thankful for..." speech.


3. A round of Counter-Strike: Source determines who gets to carve the
   turkey.


4. House decorated with plush microbes to celebrate the pilgrims
   bringing diseases to the new world.


5. Someone constantly keeps saying "The pilgrims had coffee, didn't
   they?"


6. Plates have a heatsink attached to them so you don't burn your
   mouth.


7. The cranberries are caffeinated.


8. Whipped cream for the pumpkin pie made with Dremel.


9. Three words: Lego gravy boat.


10. Pilgrim decorations have red hats instead of black ones.


11. The turkey is given the opportunity for a saving throw before
    being butchered.

supposed...

... to be sleeping. But I'm wide awake, so I'm up typing instead. I had a long nap this evening when I got back from walking Molly after work, and then a long luxurious bath. So I guess the current wakefulness should come as no surprise. It doesn't, really, even without the above-mentioned factors. I'm a lifelong night-owl and I've been indulging myself lately. I had such trouble breathing when I woke up this morning that I sucked on my inhaler and once my breathing returned to normal I just kinda went comatose for a few hours. That was great, in one way, because I needed the deep sleep to recuperate from all the struggling I've done with my lungs these past weeks. In another way, it meant I was three hours late to work and had to stay uber-late this evening to make it up. Even that was okay. I got it done, and luckily I had a task at work that was very well-suited to the quieter working evironment one finds at 7 PM in a near-abandoned office. More of the research I was working on last time I posted, actually...

Less okay is the reprimand I got from my pregnant friend about how long it's been since I called her last and the fact that I'm not going to her baby shower this weekend. Truthfully, though I love her dearly, she's a little difficult. We tell this story about ourselves, and we tell it in good humor, but it has a very real element of strain to it. The origin of the story itself is strife. She and I went to college together, and majored in the same thing, and for the last two years of our schooling had all but 1 class together (save summer school). When we were anywhere doing anything, we got along, unless we were in the car. It didn't matter which of us was driving, if we were in the car, we were fighting. We were not just "bickering" or good-naturedly ribbing each other, either. We were fighting like only two old people who've been married 50 years and know the darkest of ugly things about each other can fight. If I was driving, she'd try to tell me how to drive. I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE TELL ME HOW TO DRIVE!!! I'm all for a navigator. Strategically speaking, I want to know what street I need to turn on, that I have two blocks before I need to be in the far left lane, or that the restaurant is about 2 miles ahead on the right. Tactically, I figure out how to make those things happen, and woe betide the soul who thinks to tell me otherwise. So I nearly killed her on any number of occasions. I have never heard such violently ugly things come out of my own mouth (and to my own great surprise) as when she was telling me how to drive. I can think of only two other people I've ever really wanted to pound with my fists as badly as I wanted to hit her almost every time we were in a car together. She used to expect me to tell her the same stuff when she was driving, and I usually did so, albeit reluctantly. This didn't become a problem until she was the Designated Driver one infamous night in New Orleans. We were halfway back to our hotel and on some freeway bridge across the Mississippi River when she started hollering at me (who? quite intoxicated, eyeglasses removed, seeing sextuple me?) to sit up and help her watch for the exit signs. It was then that it became quite apparent to me that in our former lives, we HAD been and old couple married for 50 years. And one night, we were driving across a river bridge, and she started telling me how to drive (AGAIN) and I deliberately drove over the bridge railing into the river and killed us both to SHUT HER UP! That said, aside from our in-car experiences channeling our former lives, we get on great and I love her to death. I hate to disappoint her. Anyway, she's not thrilled that I'm missing her shower, but I've had this weekend in College Station planned for a lot longer than I've known about her shower and there are more folks I can't disappoint there.

In other news, I'm halfway through The Witching Hour by Anne Rice. Good book!

And now, back to bed. Ahhh, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream...

procrastination...

American Cities That Best Fit You:

65% Washington, DC

60% Boston

55% Atlanta

50% Austin

50% Honolulu

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

i would like to know how i could get boston so highly ranked when i said i wanted to live somewhere sunny and mild. last i checked, sunny and mild was NOT boston. :) otherwise, though i'm good with all that.

supposed to...

be doing research. Actually, I AM doing research right now. And no, you smartasses, "research" is not code for "slacking off". I'm looking up land records to verify that the right stakeholders are notified of an upcoming change so they can voice their feeble objections before we crush them utterly with the weight of good science and boxes (I'm not joking! A report in 5 volumes, each a 3" binder, fills up more than a breadbox!) of charts, graphs, tables, and dry commentary.

The nice thing about the research task is that it affords me a little quiet time in front of a computer while the passive bits are processing. So I can do my own processing...

And now, back to the asthma thing. Yeah, I know, you're probably tired of reading about it. It's okay. You can skip this post and come back later this week. I promise to be more entertaining then.

My sister made an interesting comment last night, when I was describing the suddenness of the attack I had in my office that sent me to the ER. She compared it to being unexpectedly dunked in a swimming pool by a reprobate cousin or bully from up the street. Picture it: you're hanging out, doing your thing, maybe in the middle of a sentence. With maybe half a second's warning, you catch the flash of movement, but before you can react your head is underwater. And there you stay. You struggle, you fight, you push for the surface, for air and breath and light and life. You can't get your feet underneath yourself. You can't reach the side. And here's where asthma differs from a neighborhood bully... Your friends can shove that bully off you and get you to the surface where you start to breathe again and plot your revenge. With asthma, you just stay down there. You know the air is just outside your lungs, just on the other side of the water's surface. You know there's air inside your lungs and you are surviving on it for a while. You also know that the attack can outlast the air you have inside. You could suffocate. Finality.

This round has been different from previous bouts I've had with asthma for three chief reasons: this attack was more severe than any I've ever experienced; there was no clear cause for it; and my inhaler didn't work. Aside from that one time in Aspen, when I was over a mile in altitude and the air was thin and my inhaler was too far away, I've never been scared by my asthma. After the initial, somewhat frightening realization that I had this problem, I realized also that I had a mild and manageable version of it. I knew my triggers, I knew how to treat it.

[Aside: Those of you who know me well should be now puzzling over the fact that I NEVER showed up to rugby without my inhaler. Never a practice, never a game. I sometimes had trouble tracking down the person who was supposed to be standing on the sideline holding it while I played, but I always brought it. In fact, I was likely to be sharing my inhaler with someone who'd forgotten hers. You should also, if you know me, realize that I'm much more likely to forget a detail than I am to attend to all of them. My attention to my inhaler is a fact of grave significance.]

I could never control asthma. I could only recognize when it was coming on and manage my response to it. That was enough for me. I never spent much time in the throes of suffocation, I was always able to get treatment before it got scary. This time, not only do I not know why it came on, all the management tricks I know didn't work. I was doing everything I could do, and I still couldn't breathe.

I said to a lot of people that I thought congestion in my chest caused by that round of flu i had was causing the breathing trouble. Truth is, I was trying to convince myself. I wasn't that congested. I've been lots worse before. And now, because I don't know where it came from, I wake up every day wondering if it's going to sneak up and get me again.

I'm terrified of playing rugby this weekend because I'm afraid that my inhaler will not stop an attack if it comes on. Yes, I know my old inhaler was old and sometimes they lose their potency. However, it worked on Sunday night and then didn't work 16 hours later on Monday. I can't believe the inhaler would go kaput in that time.

supposed to be...

...preparing a lesson for tomorrow night's class. Instead, I've been chatting with a dear friend that I'm glad to be reconnecting with. It's impossible to have too many intelligent women in your life. We chatted about the nature of butch/femme, and that conversation helped me to refine my opinions on the subject. It's something I've been thinking a bit about lately for various reasons, so it was good to get to say the things aloud that I've been tossing around in my head. I've also been farting around with my computer, downloading a spyware removal program, toying with my profiles on various websites, ripping my cd's to mp3, generally doing anything EXCEPT what i'm supposed to be doing.

*RINGRING* phone break!

Okay, having just spilled my innermost secrets to my little sister, I'm ready to get down to what this post was supposed to be about in the first place: asthma. I have been doing a lot to keep myself busy and not think about it lately. I was supposed to have a doctor's appointment this morning to discuss it and come up with a management plan. Unfortunately, that didn't work out. The office wasn't where its map said it was, and although my appointment was scheduled for 8:30, when I called to get revised directions to the office, the answering service said the office didn't open until 9. I don't have any idea how the directions and hours got so screwed up, but I'll be finding a new doctor before I set another appointment. Even now, in my post about asthma, i'm doing what I've been doing for a week: thinking and talking about everything EXCEPT how I feel about it.

I'm supposed to play in a rugby game this weekend. Last night was the first time I've gotten more than an arm's length from my inhaler since I went to the ER last Monday, and bragging about it just then made me go all tight and claustrophobic. Honestly, I don't know exactly where my inhaler is at this second, and that scares me. In fact, I'm going to go find it. Be right back.

Okay, so it was in the console of my truck. That's actually a pretty reasonable location for it, as long as I'm driving myself wherever I'm going. I really would like to get a few spares, so I can keep one at home and one in the office.

I've been trying to talk about this off and on for the last week. I haven't done a very good job expressing it to anyone, and if I've personally bored you with the discussion, I apologize. I do not fear. There are so few things in this life I'm afraid of that you might as well say there are none. I'm not scared of any of the typical stuff: bugs, snakes, bats, guns, death, violence, pain, heartache, heights, flying. In fact, relative to suffocation and stagnation (the emotional version of physical suffocation), I can honestly say I'm afraid of absolutely nothing.

So I'm supposed to be playing in a rugby game this weekend. It's an Aggie Alumnae game in which the old ruggers play with or against the current ones. I've been looking forward to this event for months. I was excited a month ago about the prospect of getting my boots back on and getting into my gear and pushing my body to keep up with my brain for an hour and a half. And then this asthma mess started up. I'm plain terrified.

I started trying to get to the root of this fear, because I'm ashamed that I have contemplated sitting a game out due to it. I have struggled with asthma before, and in a rugby context, it's very familiar. But something is different this time, and I'm scared in a way I've only felt once before. I think the difference is that before this, I've always known precisely what brought the asthma on. I've also always known exactly how to fix it. I suck on my inhaler, I wait a minute, air comes back into my lungs, I can breathe, all is well. There was one time in Aspen that it took a really long time for me to get an inhaler, and even longer for the attack to pass, and I got good and snotty drunk that night and cried on my friends' shoulders about it. This most recent attack was similar to that first in that I was without air for a very much longer time than I usually am. The difference, however, is that this time it wasn't triggered by playing rugby or by allergies or by anything I can put my finger on for certain. I'd been coughing a lot, with congestion in my chest, but later it turned out there was nothing unusual plugging up my chest. I was just standing in the copy room at work, having taken my inhaler just about 20 minutes before, and I suddenly couldn't breathe. Well, I could try, but no air moved when I tried to breathe. And here I am again, talking about the mechanics and the situation and the context, but not how I feel about it. I'm doing all I can to keep from facing this fear and feeling it.

So, I've gotten all distracted by other things as I've tried to compose this post, and now my neighbors are upstairs bowling for sex or something, so I'm going to end this ramble. More when I'm more coherent.

yea, weekend!

The weekend was a Good Thing (tm, pat pend). I had a blast with Brody and Jack and McDonough on Friday. I was a little sad that they had to leave so early, but ever so glad they came to visit. Dancing and laughing and flirting and renewing old friendships and making new friends -- who knew one night could be so good for my soul? I am never going to see the Jolly Green Giant in the same way again, I assure you. (If you want to know what that means, you have to know me well enough to have that conversation face-to-face. And you have to ask.)

Saturday I went and spent time with my sister and her lovely daughters. Her in-laws were visiting, and I love them, so that was bonus fun. I painted my sister's toenails for her, which is one of those fun things I haven't gotten to do much since we were kids living at home. Nostalgia! Don't spill the fingernail polish on the carpet!

Do you have any idea how bad a smell you can generate when you use an entire bottle of nail polish remover on a carpet spot? Do you have any idea how hard you can pray that your dad doesn't light up a cigarette and blow up the house because you used the whole bottle of polish remover?

After our nostalgic spa moment, we watched the Aggies roll over and play dead while OU kicked them in the ding-ding repeatedly throughout the first half. :( Apparently, they kinda redeemed themselves later in the game and it actually finished with a score of 30-36 (OU) so it must've been more exciting at the end. By then, I'd already dropped by to visit my friend who is recuperating from surgery and gone on home from there to cook dinner. I had a lovely dinner with a dear friend, and got to bed early to cap off a restful and relaxing Saturday. Her parting comment was that I need not cook so much or so extravagantly on her account... Little does she know that the cooking was all for me. She just gave me an audience, which is all the excuse I need for a cooking frenzy. (In case you were wondering: Tamari-marinated Sirloin ala The Garden Variety Goddess topped with sauteed mushrooms and onions, Garlic-Gruyere mashed potatoes, and an herb salad with red peppers and avocado)

And that was only 2/3 of the weekend! Sunday I played with Molly down at the river until she was tired (some of you may know how long it takes for that to happen), got a little nap, taught my LSAT class, cleaned my kitchen, and Renee came over for dinner. I laughed so hard I nearly shot asparagus out my nose. Some of you have undoubtedly shot milk or coke or apple juice out your nose at some point. You can imagine, then, how painful it would be to do that with asparagus. It was a standout evening in a signal weekend.

I'm blissed out by the wonderful company I passed time with this weekend. To each of you: my heartfelt thanks for your time and energy and goodwill. You all make my life better for knowing you.

Stop the Analysis!!!

There are days on which I want to shut my brain down. I want to be able to go to the lower left corner of my brainpan, click "Start" (always seemed a silly way to turn something off, to me) and "Shutdown" and watch my brain quietly pack away all its registry entries, close all its processes, park all its drives and close itself to new electrical impulses.

Since I can't do that, I attempt to assign silly little things higher priorities than usual so I won't have to think about the big things that I probably should be thinking about. The penalty for this is that I end up overanalyzing the little stuff. It's not productive and it's not worth the energy I'm blowing on it, but that knowledge doesn't stop the analyses in my head any more than the "Start" button can.

Last night, I rearranged my office. I moved two fully-loaded bookshelves across the room, put the couch against a different wall, and relocated a futon from the living room to the office. The geometry of my hall made it necessary for me to flip the futon over lengthwise and sideways to wiggle it into the room. The result was worth the struggle, though. I love the new layout in my office and I'm sure I'll love it even more once I've got the last of the boxes in there unpacked. Currently, the boxes serve as the Great Wall of Kimmie, separating everything on the right side of the room from everything on the left. I also love having my open living room space back. It was powerfully crowded with the futon, couch, love seat, and kitchen table in there. Now, to find resting places for my entertainment cabinet and a few old CD racks that are hanging around.

To sum up: asthma drugs make me hyper and cause me to rearrange my furniture alone like a mad kitten on the 'nip. PIXY STIX!!!!!! Overanalysis is BAD.

Breathing is NOT overrated.

I have, since Wednesday of last week, been suffering badly with asthma. I know this is not a unique condition, and lots of folks out there have it, too. I haven't had trouble with it in over two years, though, so it really caught me by surprise to have trouble breathing last Wednesday. Further, I've been surprised by the fact that it's been ongoing since then. The real waker-upper was that I had a nasty attack yesterday afternoon at work (only 20 minutes after using my inhaler) and ended up in the emergency room.

Luckily, the hospital staff were quick and friendly and got me a breathing treatment very efficiently. I even got a kids' room in the E.R. so i had SpongeBob and Spiderman wall art for scenery, which beats institutional gray any day. Once I'd had the breathing treatment, all was well again. It was kinda scary, because although I'm familiar with this whole procedure (O2 monitor, BP cuff, gown, breathing through a tube) from having seen my sister go through it, I've never been through it myself. Hello: New Perspective!

End result: I got a new inhaler, as my old one was rather -- well, old. I also got a round of prednisone, which is NOT my favorite thing. I've seen family members go on it before, and I'm not looking forward to the side effects, although I cannot argue with the efficacy of its therapeutic effects. Today is the first day in nearly a week on which I've been able to take the stairs.

Lasting effects: ummm... I'm mortal. I forget that sometimes, that my existence will eventually cease, I'll be dead, and everything I know here and now will be no more. Honestly, that doesn't bother me. It's going to happen, I can't stop it, and I don't think it'll be terrible. In fact, I kinda look forward to the adventure of change although I'm in no hurry to get there; it seems there's no good way back. Suffocation, however, is my single greatest fear. I can't craft any words that adequately convey how deeply terrified I am of suffocation. I'm not afraid of dying, and I'm not afraid of death. I am shredded to the bone over suffocation. I keep telling my co-workers who ask after my health that i'm okay and "breathing is NOT overrated". It's shamefully cliche, I know, but it's the only response I have that doesn't get too personal. I don't want to show them this fear and pain. I don't want to answer honestly because that allows them into me too much.

things i miss...

• cuddling


• my bed with no dog hair on it


• talking to jj


• hugs from my grandmas


• papa james' intergalactically famous "cajun gumbo ala fatboy"


• singing


• volunteering at the community theater


• being able to run until i want to stop, instead of when my lungs stop


• playing in the band


• new orleans (and not the bars on bourbon street, but the real city)


• beach time


• brody taking me shopping


• steak


• my godsons


• my peeps from the rugby team


• scuba diving


• the variety of intellectual pursuits available in school


• tom


• the disposable income i used to put into collecting music


• chaplin and karma


• sore muscles


• stretching

new book goodness

I bought Anne Rice's The Witching Hour and the two sequels, Lasher and Taltos on Monday night. w00tzoR!!!!1 I love reading. Seriously, I could give up my computer forever, as long as I had a limitless supply of books. Anyway, two chapters in, and i realize now why Rice is such a popular author. Goodness on a Sheet of Paper, I can't believe it took me this long to get around to reading Anne Rice. Diggin' it lots. Thanks, Rose, for the suggestion.

I also picked up Rice's "Sleeping Beauty" series, and a standalone novel called Belinda both of which she wrote under pen names. Finally, picked up Anais Nin's Little Birds and Delta of Venus. I read most of Little Birds (it's a collection of shorts) when I was house-sitting for a friend a few years ago, but I'm looking forward to finishing that collection and getting into Delta as well. I was pleased to find pretty, displayable copies at Half-Price books and am looking forward to having them on my shelf for many years to come, almost as much as I'm looking forward to actually reading them.

That's it for me for now. I'm struggling with asthma today, which is unusual, and i'm hoping it's not a sign that this flu turned into something upper-respiratory-related in my chest. I can't shake the cough.

odd dream night...

so my dad came over yesterday, and like the knight in shining armor he is, he cleaned my kitchen, walked my dog, bought me nukeable groceries and sick food and got me one or two things he knows i love to eat for when i'm feeling better.

yea, dad! you rock the house!

i had some really bizarre dreams last night. they're a little too personal for blogging the events, but some of the themes are probably worth discussing here. back to the nature of attraction: the star character in my dream was someone i admire deeply. she has the courage of her convictions in spite of a hostile environment and a stark lack of support in those convictions from most of the people around her. she and i were roommates in the air force academy, and i only wish we could have kept in closer contact since then. we catch up periodically, but i would love to know more about her and how her life is going. i was about to say that, ironically, in spite of my admiration for her, i've never desired her romantically. thinking on it, though, i don't think that's so ironic. i've got a pretty well-honed gaydar, and i have never yet set my sights on someone who was straight. if i admire someone that much, and still don't have any romantic inclinations toward her, it's because she's absolutely 100% straight. so, it's not ironic that i've never wanted more from her than friendship, it's telling.

that said, in my dream, she did something i really don't admire: she had an abortion. i know for some people, in some situations, it's the only thing to do. i know sometimes, it's the right thing to do. i know it's rarely an easy decision. but in my dream, she (very uncharacteristically) treated the abortion as a joking matter. she talked about using the "social cache" of motherhood to get special treatment from people, to manipulate people, and then aborted the pregnancy and played it up as a miscarriage for more sympathy and special treatment. the woman i roomed with would never behave like that, but dreaming about it has put the issue at the forefront of my processor today.

i support, politically speaking, every woman's right to control her own reproductive processes and to terminate a pregnancy if she is not prepared to see it through. i don't want any desperate 15-year old girl dying in a back alley under a dirty knife because she had no legal recourse to a clean, safe procedure she was going to have anyway. i feel the same way i do about this as i do about HIV -- i don't want anyone to have to die because they were ill-informed about prevention.

i know that means that i am supporting every woman's ability to have an abortion in any way and with whatever attitude she happens to have. i just wish i could impress upon each and every woman the significance i impart to motherhood, and the way other women like me wish for it. my sister risked her life, literally, to have children. her delivery required some 30 people attending to ensure her safety and that of her girls... she has a complicated medical history and we were all terrifically relieved to see them all survive, let alone thrive as they have. i wish that every woman who can't keep her own baby would be selfless enough to carry that baby to term and see it into the hands of a family who wants it desperately.

so, politically, and realistically, i understand that because i support a woman's ability to safely and legally abort a pregnancy i am also allowing abortion to be taken as seriously or as lightly as the woman in question takes it. i can't impose my point of view on anyone and i usually don't want to, but some days, i wish i could.

sick sucks

I just tried to forage up something to eat. Unfortunately, I'm out of nukable food, so I was going to boil some rice or noodles or something equally bland that has a reasonable chance of making a one-way trip through my body. Yeah, so I get to the kitchen and realize I've been sick and/or traveling for too long, because I have no clean pans. I tried unloading the dishwasher so I could load it and wash some pans (because I guarantee I'm NOT up to scrubbing them out by hand, sorry Dad...) and that went very badly. So I'm back at the computer, trying to heat water with the phenomenal powers of my mind... and that's not working much better. Actually, I could probably just use my fevered forehead as a hotplate and cook something in a Pyrex dish. Hmmm... delirium or genius? Always a fine line...

Blergh. Back to bed, then.

sick

i'm sick. :( bleh. i'm going back to bed now, i just wanted to post out there to the whole world that i feel pretty fscking rotten right now. pour sympathy on me anytime you feel like it, thanks.

p.s. thanks, jerry, for walking molly last night. the sprite helped me, too.

"Queer Eye for the Label-Transcending Pantheon" OR: "An Intelligent Design Theory Even I Can Support"

This is the work of Paul Rudnick of the New Yorker and is listed on their web site thusly:

INTELLIGENT DESIGN
by PAUL RUDNICK
Issue of 2005-09-26
Posted 2005-09-19

Day No. 1:

And the Lord God said, “Let there be light,” and lo, there was light. But then the Lord God said, “Wait, what if I make it a sort of rosy, sunset-at-the-beach, filtered half-light, so that everything else I design will look younger?”

“I’m loving that,” said Buddha. “It’s new.”

“You should design a restaurant,” added Allah.



Day No. 2:

“Today,” the Lord God said, “let’s do land.” And lo, there was land.

“Well, it’s really not just land,” noted Vishnu. “You’ve got mountains and valleys and—is that lava?”

“It’s not a single statement,” said the Lord God. “I want it to say, ‘Yes, this is land, but it’s not afraid to ooze.’ ”

“It’s really a backdrop, a sort of blank canvas,” put in Apollo. “It’s, like, minimalism, only with scale.”

“But—brown?” Buddha asked.

“Brown with infinite variations,” said the Lord God. “Taupe, ochre, burnt umber—they’re called earth tones.”

“I wasn’t criticizing,” said Buddha. “I was just noticing.”



Day No. 3:

“Just to make everyone happy,” said the Lord God, “today I’m thinking oceans, for contrast.”

“It’s wet, it’s deep, yet it’s frothy; it’s design without dogma,” said Buddha, approvingly.

“Now, there’s movement,” agreed Allah. “It’s not just ‘Hi, I’m a planet—no splashing.’ ”

“But are those ice caps?” inquired Thor. “Is this a coherent vision, or a highball?”

“I can do ice caps if I want to,” sniffed the Lord God.

“It’s about a mood,” said the Angel Moroni, supportively.

“Thank you,” said the Lord God.



Day No. 4:

“One word,” said the Lord God. “Landscaping. But I want it to look natural, as if it all somehow just happened.”

“Do rain forests,” suggested a primitive tribal god, who was known only as a clicking noise.

“Rain forests here,” decreed the Lord God. “And deserts there. For a spa feeling.”

“Which is fresh, but let’s give it glow,” said Buddha. “Polished stones and bamboo, with a soothing trickle of something.”

“I know where you’re going,” said the Lord God. “But why am I seeing scented candles and a signature body wash?”

“Shut up,” said Buddha.

“You shut up,” said the Lord God.

“It’s all about the mix,” Allah declared in a calming voice. “Now let’s look at some swatches.”



Day No. 5:

“I’d like to design some creatures of the sea,” the Lord God said. “Sleek but not slick.”

“Yes, yes, and more yes—it’s a total gills moment,” said Apollo. “But what if you added wings?”

“Fussy,” whispered Buddha to Zeus. “Why not epaulets and a sash?”

“Legs,” said Allah. “Now let’s do legs.”

“Are we already doing dining-room tables?” asked the Lord God, confused.

“No, design some creatures with legs,” said Allah. So the Lord God, nodding, designed an ostrich.

“First draft,” everyone agreed, and so the Lord God designed an alligator.

“There’s gonna be a waiting list,” Zeus murmured appreciatively.

“Now do puppies!” pleaded Vishnu. “And kitties!”

“Ooooo!” all the gods cooed. Then, feeling a bit embarrassed, Zeus ventured, “Design something more practical, like a horse or a mule.”

“What about a koala?” asked the Lord God.

“Much better,” Zeus declared, cuddling the furry little animal. “I’m going to call him Buttons.”



Day No. 6:

“Today I’m really going out there,” said the Lord God. “And I know it won’t be popular at first, and you’re all gonna be saying, ‘Earth to Lord God,’ but in a few million years it’s going to be timeless. I’m going to design a man.”

And everyone looked upon the man that the Lord God designed.

“It has your eyes,” Zeus told the Lord God.

“Does it stack?” inquired Allah.

“It has a naïve, folk-artsy, I-made-it-myself vibe,” said Buddha. The Inca sun god, however, only scoffed. “Been there. Evolution,” he said. “It’s called a shaved monkey.”

“I like it,” protested Buddha. “But it can’t work a strapless dress.” Everyone agreed on this point, so the Lord God announced, “Well, what if I give it nice round breasts and lose the penis?”

“Yes,” the gods said immediately.

“Now it’s intelligent,” said Aphrodite.

“But what if I made it blond?” giggled the Lord God.

“And what if I made you a booming offscreen voice in a lot of bad movies?” asked Aphrodite.



Day No. 7:

“You know, I’m really feeling good about this whole intelligent-design deal,” said the Lord God. “But do you think that I could redo it, keeping the quality but making it at a price point we could all live with?”

“I’m not sure,” said Buddha. “You mean, what if you designed a really basic, no-frills planet? Like, do the man and the woman really need all those toes?”

“Hello!” said the Lord God. “Clean lines, no moving parts, functional but fun. Three bright, happy, wash ’n’ go colors.”

“Swedish meets Japanese, with maybe a Platinum Collector’s Edition for the geeks,” Buddha decided.

“Done,” said the Lord God. “Now let’s start thinking about Pluto. What if everything on Pluto was brushed aluminum?”

“You mean, let’s do Neptune again?” said Buddha.

much mo bettah...

I'm feeling drastically improved this morning. I think yesterday's icky-ness must have been caused by the yogurt. (Note to self: throw away the expired yogurt when you get home!)

So I posted last night about the greatness that was the weekend, but I don't think I was enthusiastic enough about it. On reflection, this was an absolute stand-out of a weekend, and I don't think I've enjoyed myself so much in some time. Most of my recent weekends have included a large chunk of time in which I did "stuff" that was important to someone else, and I was obliged to do it or volunteered to do it for some valid reason. Still, the greatest thing about this weekend was that I only did things that I REALLY WANTED TO DO and I had the opportunity to do them with the people I most wanted to see and spend time with.

I would have loved to add Meg, Nancy, Brody, and Eve to the list of people I got to hang out with this weekend, but I would have needed 27 hour days to make that happen. I'll catch them next time, I hope.

Yea! Poingity-Poingy-Poing-Poing-Poing! What an outstandingly great weekend! Even though it was enforced by borderline food poisoning, I thoroughly enjoyed the 15 hours of sleep I got last night. Maybe that's part of why I'm feeling so good today... I'm well rested for the first time in a long time.

Bloggy blog

So I realized tonight that my blog has recently taken a very Live-Journal-esque twist. I don't think everyone wants to read my deep personal introspections, so I'm going to start myself a live journal for that stuff, and get back to blogging on Blogspot.

That said, tonight's not a great night for blogging. I think I got into some bad yogurt today because I got pukey while teaching my LSAT class. I had to call the class off early and now I've gotta find some time to make up the missed session with my students. I feel positively foul, but I'm up and typing because I simply couldn't lie in bed any longer.

I had a great weekend, and I'll put up a photo of it as soon as Emilie sends it to me. [post edit: as promised, a photo! this is "before". unfortunately, i don't have any during or after pics.] I went to Austin for the Valkyries' Oil Wrestling fundraiser. I used to play rugby with the Valks when I lived in Austin, and I was invited back to wrestle as a guest. :) Thanks, ladies, it was fun!


Bonus prize: I got to hang out with my baby sister at her new house in Spicewood. It's such a precious place and she's rightfully proud of it. My dog likes it out there, too. We went for a nice walk Saturday morning when I woke up to Molly licking my nose. Not a subtle hinter, that dog. Next time I go, Molly will hopefully be able to swim and i can take her all the way down to the lake. She's still recovering from a bad cut on the bottom of her foot, so we couldn't get in the water this time. I just loved being able to walk the dog without a leash and a poop bag and all the uptight-ness that goes along with walking a big dog "in town". I know I'm an urbanite at this point in my life, and probably will be for a good while yet, but there are some things about rural life I miss.

Almostly finally, I got to hang out and have breakfast after oil wrestling with some of my favorite people on the planet. I love to see my friends in good, happy, healthy, complementary relationships. Furthermore, cream-cheese-artichoke-heart enchiladas with lemon-cream sauce ROCK THE HOUSE. Thanks, Magnolia Cafe, for eternally good food and servers who are nice to you even when you ARE drunk and sleepy and mostly incoherent at 3 AM.

confidential to "squirt"

I'm thinking of you. I'm proud of you. You have taken control and are taking care of yourself, and that makes you unfuckwithable. *HUGS AND SUPPORT*

a finer caliber

first, a confessional: my embarrassing revelation, which came before the quoted segment of the IM conversation in the last blog entry was that i had wanted to kiss "HER:" during a previous evening together, but had been uncertain how it'd be received and so had refrained. i got a small ration of shit for posting her "embarrassing bits" but not mine. personally, i thought i did plenty of self-embarrassment by posting the conversation in the first place, but now, hopefully, we're even.

second, to put too fine a point on this ramble about "all that matters", here goes:

ME: that's by far the least embarrassing course of action. :) but sometimes you have to hang it out there and embarrass yourself to get what you want.

you do, sometimes, have to embarrass yourself to get what you want. as the old saying goes: nothing ventured, nothing gained. at some point, at some level, in order to get anywhere in a romantic encounter, you have to make a move. you have to start a gambit, and that gambit has to leave your defenses down somewhere, and that makes you vulnerable to embarrassment at best, pain at worst. vulnerability has its cost, but its reward is that it creates the possibility of a truly open and soulful connection. you have to risk the pain and embarrassment to reap the reward, no way around it. as i once told a dear friend: "i know you've developed a really good suit of armor, but sometimes you have to stick your nose out there and look around. if it gets chopped off, you can find a plastic surgeon. if it doesn't, you might get kissed." i later chopped his nose off, but he found a plastic surgeon and we managed to stay friends.

ME: i'm so much more flustered by women than i am by men, and i think it's largely because i care more about the women. if it doesn't work out with a guy, or if we get our signals crossed, i can drop him like a dirty kleenex, and not be bothered overmuch by the loss.

this isn't entirely accurate. i don't want any men who find themselves reading this to think i'm heartless or that i don't care or that i equate them with snotty, germy disposable paper products. i was trying to make a point, so i exaggerated to emphasize it. now, with that said, the point still stands. i'm just more interested in women at this point in my life than i am in men. i care more about the outcome of my interactions with women, so i get more flustered, more worried. the infamous, anonymous "HER:" was more concerned about how the women would react and whether or not she'd hurt them. that's really not something i spend much time worrying about. i have a plan for dealing with it in any given situation, which is to communicate clearly and openly about what i want and what i'm willing to give. if i feel like the other person isn't reading my communication correctly, or if i feel like they're not capable of working with the want/need/willing scenario, i avoid getting entangled. that's a longtime operating procedure for me, so i don't spend time worrying about it at this point.

HER: well just look at us biologically (if that's even a word) and it makes complete sense...sex for men is OUTSIDE of them, it is external. for women it is literally letting someone inside you - that has to affect your emotions about it in some way.
ME: it does. i think it's hormonal, too, at some level. <-- this is a new theory based on discussions with one of my trans friends.

i don't have a whole lot more to say about this, because it's a raw theory and i only have a tiny bit of anecdotal evidence behind it. i think the hormones have something to do with it, more than i gave them credit for before. testosterone has a powerful differentiating force. society and physiognomy play a role, too, in people's feelings about sex and certainly one can't generalize for the population as a whole or for either sex in particular. however, the stereotypes about how personally men and women take sex exist for a reason and they serve as a good starting point for a discussion.

HER: i joke that i wish i could take sex more casually but in truth i'm glad i don't.
ME: yeah? i get that. on the one hand, it would be nice from the "frequently satisfied" perspective. but, on the other hand, you risk a slutty reputation and leaving yourself open to bad experiences and lesbian drama.

seriously, yo. i'm not going to go into my ideas about why people gossip or what they get out of it, but i've certainly learned to keep my private stuff private. i'm not embarrassed, ashamed, bothered, worried, or shy about being a sexually active adult. i take care of my health and safety, i aim for quality over quantity, and i am responsible with other people's feelings. that said, i don't need everybody to know who's on my "list", because i know the way the rumor mill works, and i know what i've seen happen to women who didn't keep their DL on the DL. word gets around, and stuff that should NEVER EVER get you in trouble is suddenly getting you into either trouble or drama or both. so i strive to keep my shiznit to myself (yea, journaling!), certain lapses in judgment notwithstanding. i don't think anyone really gets to live a drama-free live, unless maybe they're a hermit. keeping things to myself certainly doesn't keep me from getting caught up in the drama on occasion, but NOT keeping it to myself has proven to be a certain invitation to front-center-stage-drama, which is the worst kind.

ME: nope. me, either. at one level, sex is just sex for me, it's a physical thing and that's fun and i'm glad to have it as long as it's good. on another, it can be an emotional, soulful connection with somebody, and i don't want to go spreading that around too thinly.

this is the very heart of my outlook on sex. i have two very different types of sex, and they do different things for me emotionally. physically, they're identical. i may have to come back to this topic later, because i feel like i have a lot more to say about it, but for now that's all i can articulate clearly.

i've got a very good compartmentalizer in my emotional makeup, so i can keep those two things separated, but i find it's hard for me to have both kinds of sex with the same person. if it's sex, it's just sex. if we make love, we make love, but i can't go back and forth.

this was the true gem of self-discovery from this conversation. i had already defined for myself the separation between sex and lovemaking (i know that's a slightly cheesy, heavily loaded term, but it conveys the idea as well as i know how. i hope the distinction is apparent.) and how they work differently for me. i had never thought about the possibility that i could have both kinds of sex with a single partner. i have and i'm sure will again go from physical sex to emotionally-involved sex with one person. i've never gone the other way, and don't think i could.

that's why i'm completely baffled by the people who have booty calls with their exes. once i've severed that sort of emotional bond with someone, i can't go back and have a purely physical experience with them.

i need to revise this significantly. i DO TOTALLY UNDERSTAND how people go back to their exes for booty calls. the kernel of physical attraction that was a part of the relationship doesn't always end when the emotional entanglement ends. (don't ask me how i know that!) if i were to let my zipper make the decision, i could certainly end up in the sack with an ex. however, it would be a HUGE strain on my compartmentalizer and i think at some point (probably after some mugging and heavy petting) i'd bow out. the reason i haven't/don't/won't end up banging an ex is that i don't let my zipper make my decisions for me. so, that said, i UNDERSTAND it, i just don't DO it.

...that caliber a confessional conversation...

so i had an unusually deep IM conversation with a friend i'm going out with tonight. i guess she's something more than a friend, at this point. she's a crush. i was going to cut and paste bits of the conversation and turn them into a regular blog post, and i still might. but for now, to get my post started, is the conversation, mostly as it occurred. there are some temporal skips i've rearranged, and i've erased names of people where it was appropriate to do so.


HER: i wanted dinner to be a date but didn't know if it was a date because it's hard to tell if it is hanging out or a date...plus i always err on the side of caution...
ME: that's by far the least embarassing course of action. :) but sometimes you have to hang it out there and embarass yourself to get what you want.
HER: ...so i consulted my wise lesbian friend [name removed] to find out how you know the difference. i caught a lot of shit for that.
ME: LOL. what did she say was the difference?
HER: i don't feel that i got a good answer....she asked me how I felt about it and what I thought about you which has nothing to do with if it is reciprocated and a date or not so i walked away thinking that the wise lesbian sage might just be a babbling old lady. :) her answer was that it boiled down to intent...if my intention was to get to know you and see if I like-like you then it is a date.
ME: yeah, i agree with her. that's about it. :)
HER: brother - dating men was so much easier - you knew for sure. i don't ever remember wondering if i was going on a date or just hanging out.
ME: indeed. it's not hard to tell with them, for some reason. women are SOOOOO frickin' ambiguous.
HER: and i'm so much more forward w/men than i am w/women. i guess because they are easier to read.
ME: i'm so much more flustered by women than i am by men, and i think it's largely because i care more about the women. if it doesn't work out with a guy, or if we get our signals crossed, i can drop him like a dirty kleenex, and not be bothered overmuch by the loss.
HER: agreed. i'm very aware when dating women that they feel more and differently than men would. men can shrug it off easier too - women have a harder time...part of the reason i wouldn't do anything with young hot [2nd name removed]- if it were a guy i wouldn't have a moral dillema, they are better at compartmentalizing than women are...ah! i have a meeting...be back in a bit.
*BRIEF INTERMISSION*
HER: so where were we...
ME: women don't compartmentalize as well as men do. and they don't separate sex from love as well as men do.
HER: well just look at us biologically (if that's even a word) and it makes complete sense...sex for men is OUTSIDE of them, it is external. for women it is literally letting someone inside you - that has to affect your emotions about it in some way.
ME: it does. i think it's hormonal, too, at some level. <-- this is a new theory based on discussions with one of my trans friends.
HER: really? more please...did their feelings about it change after being on hormones?
ME: yes. he became very interested in porn, for one thing. and he used to be the type who had to be in LOVE with anyone he slept with. now, he can just fsck for fun, and love is a whole other game.
HER: well huh. that's very interesting. maybe i need a little more testosterone.
ME: :) i like you all estrogenated, thanks. testosterone also gave him acne, road rage and chest hair.
HER: well then nevermind...i think i'll stay the girly girl i am. :)
ME: yeah, probably for the best. no woman i know needs help growing hair on her chest. :)
HER: i joke that i wish i could take sex more casually but in truth i'm glad i don't.
ME: yeah? i get that. on the one hand, it would be nice from the "frequently satisfied" perspective. but, on the other hand, you risk a slutty reputation and leaving yourself open to bad experiences and lesbian drama.
HER: drama. yuck. not a fan.
ME: nope. me, either. at one level, sex is just sex for me, it's a physical thing and that's fun and i'm glad to have it as long as it's good. on another, it can be an emotional, soulful connection with somebody, and i don't want to go spreading that around too thinly. i've got a very good compartmentalizer in my emotional makeup, so i can keep those two things separated, but i find it's hard for me to have both kinds of sex with the same person. if it's sex, it's just sex. if we make love, we make love, but i can't go back and forth. that's why i'm completely baffled by the people who have booty calls with their exes. once i've severed that sort of emotional bond with someone, i can't go back and have a purely physical experience with them.
HER: that makes sense...i don't know how well my compartmentalizer works these days - i've been a serial monogamist for a while so i haven't tried it out...and probably lean much more to the emotional that the sport side...sporting still requires a level of trust to me - any time i've had a sport buddy it's been a friend that i trust but that there is a detachment emotionally.
ME: wow. self-discovery moment. until i typed that out, i'd never really thought about why i was so boggled by stories of people sleeping with their exes. yeah. if you're going to have a regular sport buddy, it has to be someone you have a level of respect and trust with, i would imagine. i've never had one, so i don't know. :)
HER: i've never had a female one...so i don't know how well that would work. my male sporting buddy was in my 20's and someone that i really cared about and respected but we were long-time friends and when we moved on it was clean and fine...i think it was an exception rather than something i could see repeating again. i think these days sleeping with someone who didn't want to date me would be bad for my self-image.
ME: really? even if you didn't want to date the other person, either? what if it was mutual?
HER: well i can't really see me wanting to sleep with someone i don't want to date...i don't know...i haven't thought it through that well. there could be a circumstance where it would be OK - but in general i think it would translate in to my head that i'm good enough for a romp but not good enough for dating...but that's not how i would think of the other person so basically i'm just writing about stuff that hasn't come up in a long time and i don't really know how i'd feel about it.
ME: this is all pretty deep for IM. i almost feel like i'm journaling, having to write out how i feel about subjects i've never spent a lot of time defining my position on.
HER: if i had the same situation again that i had before it would be OK - that was fun and it worked...
ME: understood. i'm defining my position as i go, as well. i've never had a sport buddy, so i'm not qualified to comment. :) i've envisioned situations in which it could work, and that was the defining characteristic i came up with: we would have to be mutually attracted but in agreement on the fact that we didn't want to date for whatever reason.
HER: ...but i'm a more guarded person now than i was then so i don't know if it would work now...being guarded is something i've decided to get rid of in my life so we'll see...not sure how that will change me.
ME: i applaud the effort.
HER: effort of dropping guards?
HER: or efforts of getting a sport buddy. :)
ME: it's hard to let your defenses down, because it's scary as hell. it's also the most rewarding thing you can ever do, because there is nothing like the feeling you get from a totally truly open connection with a worthy soul.
HER: that's very true. i used to say that the worst that could happen was that i'd get hurt and i've been hurt before and i lived through it just fine ...i liked that attitude...
ME: it's a good one to have.
HER: ...but this last year i've been closed off and unwilling to really just be vulnerable...it's time to go back to being my true self and not my scared self. but a smarter self who is better at judging who is worthy and who isn't.
ME: sometimes that defensive phase is part of healing, though. you HAVE to withdraw so you can get your balance back and be open in a healthy way.
HER: that's true. and when healing it is easy to transfer feelings rather than develop them.
ME: hrmm... what do you mean by that?
ME: (in the style of : curious, not snidely challenging)
HER: so you are in the healing process and are far enough along to step out there and start dating...
ME: k
HER: ...if you haven't put up some distance or a bit of a wall, when you start developing feelings/interest in someone, you run the risk of transferring the unresolved feelings for your ex (because you are in the healing process still) on to the person you are seeing...
ME: oh, yes. i get that. i've been on the receiving end of that before.
HER: ...instead of developing them for that person by that person's merits without the past tagging along. so while it makes it hard to be open to others, it also keeps you from bringing whatever it is you're still working on to the next experience.
ME: yeah.
HER: i have too. (been on the receiving end) - it's a weird feeling to know that what they are feeling so intensely has nothing to do with you.
ME: exactly. i had no idea where this rage in my ex was coming from, or why she kept going back to mistrusting me... i finally figured out that it was baggage, not ME.
HER: i know everyone has their baggage, everyone brings their past in to some extent - it's just really important to me to make peace with the past so it doesn't harm my future.
ME: yup. there's a fine line to walk between learning from past mistakes and being haunted by them. it's a delicate balance.
HER: i did a good job of that after [3rd name removed], but i did a lousy job of allowing myself to feel. my actions were great, my communication was excellent, but my heart and head were so disconnected...and i don't like to be unbalanced like that and think i learned a lot from those experiences and can apply the lessons.
HER: goodness, this really is like a journal IM.
ME: i know. i almost feel like i should save the chatlog and put it in my blog. (change names to protect the guilty, of course, and edit out the more embarassing bits) i don't think i will, but it's that caliber of confessional convo.
HER: you can. i don't care...except you should leave the embarassing things in for entertainment value. :)

body modification and body art...

i've been itching to get something else "done" lately. it's like when i've been away from theater or choir for too long, i get a bug and have to get back to it again. there's something in my soul that needs these things periodically. other examples of things i periodically need are:

• mellow evenings with red wine
• time on the ocean
• alone time
• buttered popcorn
• challenging mental puzzles
• recreational reading
• action flicks
• my godsons
• FACE TIME with dear friends
• camping
• body art

i'm REALLY particular about tattoos. i know i'm not unique in this, but i point it out because there are also many people who aren't so inclined. many (especially in the 20 and 30-something age groups) see tattoos as a way to record their current events. i see tattoos as a way to immortalize those things which are eternal and DEEPLY personal. i have one tattoo. it's rich in symbology and says in about 4 different ways how crucial balance is to me. i see life, the universe, and everything as collections of opposing forces. i strive to understand what forces are involved and how to balance them in everything i do and everything i face. thus, my tattoo encapsulates my worldview in a single, elegant, beautiful display. if you would understand me, you must understand that display.

now, since i have the bug to do another tattoo or piercing, i'm thinking about symbology again. the problem with a tattoo right now is that i don't have anything i really WANT tattooed on me. i don't want to have permanent art affixed to my skin to satisfy a whim. :) so i'm leaning toward a piercing at this point, because i can take it out at any time.

a piercing presents its own complications, though, because i have to choose what (from the remaining available body parts) to pierce. facial piercings are not an option, as i have a RealJob (tm, pat pend) which demands that i deal with a clientele who are not amused by facial piercings. i have a very small, very unobtrusive nose stud, which marks me as a member of the freak fringe in my profession. i'm not going to be able to get away with an eyebrow, tongue, or lip piercing, EVER.

i could get a cartilage piercing on my upper ear, but that doesn't appeal to me for a few reasons. i have massively thick, outrageously curly hair which i wear long most of the time. i don't want my hair getting wrapped around, tangled in, or caught on an earring, and i don't want to accidentally yank on it every time i'm washing or styling or foofing with my hair. i've already given up on hoopy or dangly earrings for regular wear for this very reason. furthermore, i have two piercings in each of my earlobes already, and getting those didn't give me the same rush* that i get from other piercings or from my tattoo.

i can't get a navel ring because i've already had my navel pierced twice. it didn't heal up correctly either time, and now there's too much scar tissue in the piercing zone to be able to get a good piercing there. furthermore, after two unsuccessful piercings in that location, i don't really want to try it again. anyone who's ever had a piercing that developed a keloid or got infected or didn't heal cleanly knows what a phenomenal pain in the butt it is to care for one... i'm not keen to go through the labor of post-piercing care on it all over again, either.

my nipples are as pierced as they're ever going to get. in order to avoid sharing Too Much Information (tm, pat pend), i'll leave that statement hanging out there in glorious ambiguity. if you want to know what it means, you'll have to get to know me.

so, that pretty much leaves a hood piercing, which i'm not sold on, either. i've honestly never considered it a possibility until this round with "the bug". i don't know enough about the potential health effects or maintenance requirements or anything else to know if i want to get one.

so i'm doing cautious and skeptical research, and i'm taking suggestions for alternate locations that i haven't considered yet. any ideas? input? suggestions? i'm also looking for a good piercing artist in the d/fw metroplex. i have a lead on one down in the oak lawn neighborhood, but i haven't met her yet. i've also heard that deep ellum is a good place to go for that sort of thing, but again, i'm just starting my research, so i only have vague info at this point.

*rush - i think the main reason i get this bug for body mods is that i crave the rush i get during the process and after the art is done. it's a very intense high, comparable to the overall good feeling one gets from good sex or s'mores, but more concentrated. distilled is the word that comes to mind.

campety-campety-camp-camp-camp!

i'm going camping this weekend with some friends at the rainbow ranch out near groesbeck. i don't think i've actually been in groesbeck since i was about 11 months old. apparently, my parents lived in a trailer there early in their marriage. my first christmas, and the place was so small the tree had to be placed outside.

at any rate, i'm thoroughly excited about the camping trip. the weather promises to be perfect and i love to sleep out under the stars. my dog also loves it, although she gets nutty if anyone in the campground tries to play any ball-based game in her field of view.

it's just been a long time since i went to sleep smelling of woodsmoke and i'm SO looking forward to it.

as if that weren't enough, i really enjoy the company i'm going with. good peeps, one and all, and some really special friends among them. we'd have fun no matter what we were doing, but camping just makes it even better.

now i've just gotta focus enough to get through today and tomorrow at work. i may explode with the anticipation! i'm already fidgeting at a higher frequency than usual... if you hear a sonic boom in the metroplex in the next 48 hours, it was me fidgeting through the sound barrier as the anticipation built up beyond reasonable levels.

hair color meme!

Your Hair Should Be Purple

Intense, thoughtful, and unconventional. You're always philosophizing and inspiring others with your insights.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

on sex... (not in the fun way, in the anatomical way)

i have two transsexual (or transgender, or whatever term you prefer) friends that i consider myself close to, one who transitioned mtf and the other ftm, and i am stunned at how difficult little things in their lives are.

i'm thinking about it right now because another friend just posted a terrific message in a forum i frequent. here it is:

I am...

I am the guy who came out to the entire school in his senior speech and got a standing ovation for his courage.

I am the girl who kisses her girlfriend on the sidewalk and laughs at those who glare.

We are the couple who planned and studied and got a damn good lawyer and BEAT the state that wanted to take our child away.

We are the ones who took martial arts classes and carry pepper spray and are just too dangerous to gay bash.

I am the transgender person who uses the bathroom that suits me, and demands that any complaining staff explain their complaint to my face in front of the entire restaurant--and shares with my other trans friends which restaurants don't raise a stink.

I am the mother who told her lesbian daughter to invite her girlfriend over for dinner.

I am the father who punished his son for calling you a fag.

I am the preacher who told my congregation that love, not hate, is the definition of a true follower of God.

I am the girl who did not learn the meaning of "homosexual" until high school but never thought to question why two men might be kissing.

I am the woman who argues (quite loudly and vehemently) with the bigots who insist that you do not have the right to marry or raise children.

We are the high school class who agrees, unanimously, along with our teacher, that love should be all that matters.

If you agree, repost this. Do it. You don't have to be afraid. You can handle it. You're stronger than you think.

I am making a difference. Hate will not win.

so i've been thinking about the lives of my trans friends, and wishing there was something i could do to make it better or easier for them.

a simple example, something every one of us absolutely and totally takes for granted: which public bathroom to use. now that they're post-transition it's rarely a "big deal" to choose, but during the transition, it was HUGE. they never went into a public bathroom alone... for two years! if they went to the men's room and sat down to pee, they got strange and hostile looks, sometimes they were followed out and feared for their safety. if they went into the women's room, women would shriek and point and tell them they were in the wrong room, or whisper and giggle and make catty comments. these things didn't happen every single time, but it only has to happen once for you to fear it every time you put your hand on the door. living under that kind of apprehension of such a routine daily event is the stuff of PTSD.

another simple thing most people take for granted, like meeting and having a crush and dating... it's not that simple. at some point, you have to explain your history. when do you do that? do you introduce yourself that way? "hi, i'm kim. i'm a transwoman. cute shoes!" do you wait until you're into a date with them? "pass the breadsticks, please. in case you hadn't noticed, i'm a little on the butch side. well, that's because i was called ken until two years ago."

i'm bisexual, and i was recently lamenting the fact that i don't have "bi-dar" to go along with my "gay-dar". i can tell when women are amenable to a female advance, but i'm not good at telling with guys. in fact, i'm something of a "fag hag" and if i decide based on acquaintance-level knowledge that i'm interested in a man, chances are probably 70-30 he's gay. that doesn't hold true if i know the guys well, but that's a different story entirely and we don't have time to go into it in this post. count your blessings, gentle readers.

so, i was all set for a pity party about my absolutely absent sense of bi-dar, when i started talking about this to one of my trans friends. he's got it so much harder! how do you know whether someone is open to dating a transgendered person? there's no "open-minded-dar". if you've transitioned ftm, do you try to date lesbians or straight women? even someone who is very supportive of the political ideal and open-minded about the rights of trans-folk may not personally be interested in dating one. i know a woman who is very, very, politically lesbian. her lesbianism is a huge part of her identity, even though her attractions are pretty bisexual. she's also very supportive of the trans movement, but feels like she's undermining herself if she dates a transman. it's the ULTIMATE in the political open-mindedness scale, but it's the WORST political move to explain it. so from the outside, to people who don't know or investigate, it looks like she's sold out the party and started dating men, and is taking all the social and legal privileges that go along with that.

so that's why i'm writing all this, i guess... my ultimate aim is to humanize my transgendered friends in the minds of the people who read this. i want to take a stand and refuse to let hate and ignorance make life harder for them. would YOU date a transgendered person? you've probably never thought about it, but you should. you don't have to answer yes or no, just think about it. think about what it means, and if you don't know, do a little research. next time you see a "tranny" in the bar, don't refuse to make eye contact. don't shun him or her. if you're standing in line for a drink, make small talk, just like you would with anyone else. it matters. it makes a difference. it enriches your life.

on affection...

so, i did one of those silly blog memes recently (it's the alphabet post below) and it asked for the name of my "crush".

my first reaction was: i don't have one. wow... i haven't had one in a LOOOONGG time. has it been years? am i even capable of crushing as an adult? i don't remember having a serious crush since high school...

and then i had a cup of coffee, and my brain juices started flowing, and i recalled that i have had a few crushes along the way. it has NOT been years. *whew* i had half convinced myself that my crush-inator had withered from disuse and was no longer functioning. wouldn't that SUCK?!?!?!?! it had been a while, but that's because i was in a relationship that had settled into a comfortable zone and crushing wasn't part of it anymore. further, i'm mindful of respecting my partner in such things, and since my partner was a monogamist, i was too. so for the duration of the relationship, i avoided putting myself in the path of crushing and never allowed any such feelings to take root.

so, with the subject in the forefront of my lobes, i headed out to the bar and to various social outings this weekend. there i discovered that my crush-inator is in fine form. functioning fluidly and furiously, i might add. :) maybe it's so just because i've been thinking and worrying about it, but i discovered that there are still lots of people i know, people i meet, and people i just brush past in the bar that can flick my bic.

so, i can say with authority i've got two torch-y lusts that have been smoldering for some time, one certifiably scorching crush that threatens to sever the connection between my vocabulary and my mouth on occasion, and one mind-fsck (in the good way) that i'm keeping on a back burner because the object of my affection is not available. no sense carrying a torch that's only going to burn me, so i just admire from a distance.

glad to know i've still got it. :)

Serenity...

so i went and saw "serenity" over the weekend. it took some phenomenal schedule-wrangling and my dog had to stay locked up in the apartment for about 12 hours as a result, but it was worth it all the way! (don't pity the dog too much, she got a fantastically long fetch/swim/walk before the confinement, and she threw all my clean clothes on the floor so she could bask in a sunbeam on the couch while i was gone)

anyway, without saying too much for those who haven't seen it, the movie was outstanding. it was beautifully shot, nicely paced, and with some terrific one-liner style intelligent humor. it also featured multi-dimensional characters with some goodness and some badness, scars and bumps and such. i thoroughly enjoyed it! highly recommended, whether you dig the love story, the sci-fi angle, the action-flick styling, or just the pretty actors.

i had a terrific time hangin' out with my old roommate thursday and friday, it was so good to see him again... and then i got to catch up with the austin rugby women on saturday, which was likewise fantastic. so many good things to be happy for. :)

and of course, there were good eats. :) i had green papaya on friday, cafe brazil on saturday, and panera on sunday. panera has this obscenely good portobello/mozarella sandwich with caramelized onions and other goodies on it... wow! i had crepes with feta, avocado, and mushroom at cafe brazil, and vietnamese vegetarian hot/sour soup at green papaya. i'm spoiled! i'm never going back to college station again!

on that note, i really AM going back to college station again, in mourning. my favorite mexican dive, gina's, is closing down, apparently. they made the most wonderful from-scratch tex-mex food ever... and they are closing down. *boohoo!* so i'll make a pilgrimmage to say goodbye to gina's, but i'm definitely a fan of the food options in the metroplex. yea!

climbing the dadgum walls...

it's friday afternoon, and i'm climbing the walls to get out of here. i've got 30 minutes to go and 15 minutes of work to do. my software crashed on me, just split-seconds before i could print my work, thus throwing my early-exit plans into the rubbish heap.

it could be worse, though. my sister was supposed to move today, and she's got to be moved no later than tomorrow, but her movers wrecked their truck on the way to her house. she had a panicky hour trying to arrange a backup moving plan on short notice... if you've ever tried to get movers with less than 14 days' notice, you know how painful an experience this is. :( anyway, she managed to get some help, and she's getting her stuff moved. i'm glad i'm not dealing with her obstacles today. i'll take crashing software over crashed trucks, thanks.

the weekend outlook is good for me, too... friends coming to town, good music, state fair, etc. looking forward to the r&r...

alphabet meme

swiped from my good friend zed

[A is for age:] 30, at the moment.
[B is for booze of choice:] scotch, old single malt; or red wine, dry
[C is for career:] civil engineer/surveyor building landfills (it's more fun than it sounds like!) and a teacher/tutor for a test prep company
[D is for your dad's name:] Jim
[E is for essential items to bring to a party:] a mingly attitude, a pitcher of sangria, and good music that's not too loud (i'm a little hard of hearing)
[F is for favorite song at the moment:] Jimmy Buffett - "Trying To Reason With Hurricane Season"
[G is for favorite game:] Cranium for board games, World of Warcraft on the computer, Spades for cards, Rugby for sporting
[H is for hometown:] i live in fort worth right now, but i'm a nomad in career, life, geography, interests, everything.
[I is for instruments you play:] bassoon, trombone, a little piano, and a little guitar
[J is for jam or jelly you like:] apple butter, hazelnut spread, my late grandfather's pear preserves (he had to shoot squirrels all summer to have enough pears in the fall to can 'em!)
[K is for kids?] does my dog count? she's a hyper-spastic black lab who suits me perfectly. and i'm working on getting some fish.
[L is for living arrangements:] 2br 2ba apartment in southwest fort worth. it's right on the river, and the dog and i both love it!
[M is for mom's name:] Sharon (she's named for her grandfather!)
[N is for name of your crush:] none, at the moment. stay tuned for updates.
[O is for overnight hospital stays:] none since i was a baby and got jaundiced.
[P is for phobias:] suffocation and stagnation, in that order. see "H" for more. :)
[Q is for quotes you like:] "I got a lot of leavin' left to do." - Dierks Bentley see "H" for more. :)
[R is for relationship that lasted the longest] ironically, it was with my ex-boyfriend from high school who happens to be gay. we had an absolutely platonic relationship for 6 years off-and-on, and neither of us thought that was weird.
[S is for sexual preference:] bisexual, although i tend to prefer women slightly for relationships (at least at this stage in my life, see "H" and "P" for more.)
[T is for time you wake up:] 5 minutes before i have to be there
[U is for underwear:] underwear is like cancer. the less you've got of it, the better off you are. ;)
[V is for vegetable you love:] all of them except some of the legumes. something about that consistency really puts me off. i especially love spinach, though.
[W is for worst habit:] PROCRASTINATION. see "T" for more.
[X is for x-rays you've had:] my right thumb (age 5), my left wrist (age 10), my right ankle (age 25), my right knee (age 27), my lungs for a tuberculosis test (age 29), and my neck (age 30), plus some miscellaneous lung and face x-rays for sinus infections... do i glow in the dark? oh, and all of those really were broken, except my knee, but i'd severed the ACL. well, and i don't have tuberculosis.
[Y is for yummy food you make:] ice cream, texicali sandwiches, king ranch chicken, stew, lasagna, snapper veracruz, tamari steak
[Z is for zodiac sign:] i'm a capricorn to the hilt.

Weekend review

i slept. i skipped six flags, i skipped pride, my friend skipped driving up from austin. the only thing i had planned that i actually accomplished was cleaning up the soon-to-be-fishtank. well, and eating yummy food... that almost goes without saying. :)

i had a very nerdy discussion saturday night at the bar about john roberts, the supreme court nominee who is going through the congressional hearing process right now. my lawyer friend (who actually sits down and watches these hearings on c-span) has decided that she likes roberts. by extension, then, because i'm NOT going to sit down and watch the hearings, i like him, too. well, i don't have cable, so i couldn't watch the hearings even if i wanted to, but i don't want to. the gist of the discussion was that roberts is too smart to go on record in his hearings with a firm opinion on any politically charged issue that's likely to come before the court. he refuses to state what his position is on anything politically divisive, on the grounds that he would have to hear the facts of a case to know how he would rule on it. things that aren't politically "hot", he'll state a position and reserve the right to change his mind based on the specifics of a case. but if it's a platform issue for one of the parties, he refuses to state his position. it's a clever way to play the game, really. and that's what my friend advised me: roberts is SMART. the kind of guy who would clean your clock if you played trivial pursuit with him... so i'm not dreading his appointment so much, and i'm now turning my interest to the NEXT nominee.

and, in the weather watch, here comes hurricane rita! anyone know what happens if we use all the alphabetical names? it's only september and we're already up to "r"...

TGIF!!!

And what a Friday it's been...

But good things are coming. I've got a friend coming up from Austin to visit. I had good sushi last night. (Technically, that's come and gone, but I'm counting blessings and don't want to leave good sushi off the list, whenever it happened.) Gay pride is Sunday! Six Flags on Saturday! I'm going home to take a nap!
I have yummy food at my house that I'm looking forward to cooking over the weekend, and I've got a shiny, new (ok, it's cruddy, and dirty, and only new-to-me) fish tank to get ready to house my new roommates! That's right, I'm going to become a fish-keeper! I hope it entertains my dog...

Just as a side note: lesson learned...dirty fish tanks often have fish bio-proteins dried up in the bottom of them. fish poo! if you leave said fish tanks in your car overnight because, say, your neighbor has parked too close to you and you can't open your car door wide enough to remove the fish tank and it's too heavy to carry from a free parking space with maneuvering room, your car will REEK!!!! in the morning.

shiny, happy circuits holding hands

so, i built my computer, and it is blazing fast. it ROX! i'm thoroughly pleased with the monitor, as well. i was a little worried about lcd performance in a high-demand graphics game (like World of Warcraft) but it's doing spectacularly. i've even cranked up the video options a little bit to test how it handles more intense graphic demands, and i'm still thrilled with it.

my dog, on the other hand, is NOT amused. she doesn't understand why i sit staring at the wall for hours on end at night when i could be lying in the floor with her. it's not like i was very exciting company for her before the box was built (except for our nightly walks down at the river) but i guess she's decided i'm really TERRIBLE company now. she usually saunters in and tries to lick my trigger fingers while i'm in the middle of a really tricky fight. how do they know exactly when it would be LEAST convenient for them to do that?!?!?!

the coolest, shiniest, whirliest thing on the computer, though, has GOT to be the case fan. i mentioned in my last post that i actually had to buy one, which i did, and it's got colored LED lights in it, so the front of my computer glows like a little rainbow factory. yea! it's mesmerizing...

mesmerizing... shiny... whirly... *snaps out of it* **POP!!**

yeah, so as i was saying, i really like the computer. i had to make a pot of stew (for barter) and buy two nights worth of takeout to get it running, but it's up and running now. the food was all part of that i-don't-know-how-to-do-it-by-myself-but-i-know-how-to-get-it-done thing... thanks, jaasper!

and now, back to WoW

BOX BITS IMMINENT!!!

so, in a recent (semi-tragic, way too dramatic, i'm-better-off-now-thanks) breakup, i lost my computer. this may not be apparent from my posts, but i'm a bit of a computer nerd. and a word nerd, and a music nerd, and a scotch nerd, and a wine nerd... but i digress. anyway, sans box, i've been forced to rely on my father's very old, very slow, very $hitty laptop hand-me-down for my home computing needs. this is such an unpleasant situation that i stay away from the computer a lot, and that makes me sad. :( so i'm building myself a kit from scratch, all the way up to mouse/monitor/keyboard and all the way down to case/motherboard/cpu. i even had to buy a case fan!

anyway, my dad and mom asked me this weekend if i know HOW to build my own computer. and i replied, 'yeeeeeees. well, no, but i know how to get it done.' (and isn't that the true definition of power?) so i went to church with my godsons and left their father in charge of specifying a computer for me. and he did. and it was gewd. so the box bits have been ordered, and they're en route to me...

all that was left was for me to shop for a mouse/keyboard/monitor that suited my needs. so i found a slick keyboard that's backlit, but not too much. the mouse was an easy decision. i'm totally hooked on those trackman marble mice with the scroll-wheel. (you have NO IDEA how hard it is to work without a scroll wheel when you're used to having one!) so.. (well, maybe you do, but i hope you don't. it's bad. never try to go cold-turkey off a scrolling mouse.) all that was left, then, was to buy a monitor. [cue the creepy music... dun-dun-duuuunnnnn]

that was a much bigger deal than i originally anticipated. i thought i'd just get a nice cheap crt monitor, but my inner lust for things shiny, cool, and new won out. i started researching the lcd's and found that most of the really up-to-date hardware review sites (like tom's hardware guide and anandtech but NOT LIKE the bottomfeeders AT CNET) recommended a 19" lcd for game-playing. and the new, fast 19" ones (which are starting to be cheap now) can be had for about the same price as a new CRT in the 21" size. given that you get the same screen real estate from a 21" crt and a 19" lcd, and that a 19" lcd frees up a LOT of room on your desktop, that was an easy call. unfortunately, that was the last easy part. lots and lots of clicks later (no, really, i'm a geek who likes doing product research, and i'm worn out by this particular research venture) i settled on the viewsonic vp191b. unfortunately, it's hard to find in stores. :( luckily, and again, many miles and hours later, i was able to find the next one down the product line, the vx924 on sale at compusa today. so i'm going there directly to buy it! yea! geeky stuff!

and with all that done, i'm ready for my box bits to arrive. so i wait, impatiently... i'm not good at waiting.