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I've a Notion to go get Basted next time my Nap needs Interfacing [Hobbies]
The serial hobbiest strikes again! In a string of connections too convoluted to convey, my interest in swords and sword making has turned into an interest in sewing, and a desire to learn how to sew...
What a tangled warp they weft, these Seamstresses, with their secret words and hidden meanings.
After learning their language, one must also learn their tools and machinery... equipped with a machine that is nearly my contemporary in age, I endeavored to divine its mysteries... the ins and outs, ups and downs... what a small victory it was, to be able to thread the needle. A simple thing, really, compared to the Dark Arts of bobbin management. There surely is an ancient scroll somewhere, dealing with the fine magical power "Ability to Summon Bobbins, and Bend them to do Thy Will". Still, I struggle on. Through luck and persistance -- and some help from the Oracle of Google -- I learn to tame the bobbin. It is not fully broken, but it will at least grudgingly oblige me, for a time.
And then the Patterns... the Patterns. More codes, more secrets. Simple illustrations and line art on the exterior, belie the true complicated horrors which dwell within. That such a small, innocent paper packette could contain such vast acres of tissue... mile after mile of the stuff. No doubt, folded originally by the seventh son of a seventh son under the light of the full moon -- how else could the minute enclosure house it all so neatly? And all of it faintly inscribed with arcane symbols and markings, foreign to the common eye. It is these fantastic, delicate sheets which contain the runes, that Seamstresses convert into wearable attire and useful linens.
I knew at once that I was in over my head, and beyond my knowledge. Runes and arcane symbols, I have experienced many times in the past. But nothing of this kind. These were the markings of a magic about which I knew nothing. Fortunately, there are tomes out there, which undertake to offer translations, to assist the common mind in perceiving the secret rites of the Seamstress. And through great cunning and adventure, I was able to acquire one such volume: "Sewing for Dummies" found at my local bookstore. Armed with this new resource, I began to learn Right from Wrong, and discern the new and exotic meanings of many words that I once thought I knew.
Soon, I felt a growing confidence. I looked at the Patterns I had acquired. The folds of faric, the thread, the Machine. Overwhelmed, my confidence drained away. Apart from some trials and tests, the joining of scrap fabric, my Machine was idle. The Patterns evoked fear and concern. So much tissue.. and my resource of knowledge... Yes it helped me to deign the meanings of such secrets as "Selvage" but at the same time, it filled me with cautions and caveats. Were I to proceed, I should need still more resources and equipment. No longer would a single pair of scissors suffice; that which was adequate for cutting paper, cardboard, foil-lined-plastic, and tar-based roofing tape, would not stand the test of Fabric. And the pins.... there must be pins, there has to be pins.
I have long dreaded the introduction of pins, into my domicile. As a child, I had a particular talent for locating pins that had become lost, that had wandered, gone astray. Pins were strangely attracted to my feet, and frequently would demonstrate their fondness by burying themselves to half their length, in the bottom of my sole. Yet now, here in my home, there will be pins.
With that, I will draw this tale to a temporary conclusion. Suffice to say, armed and equiped with the knowledge, the Machine, the Patterns and Fabric, the Notions and other sundries... all that remained was for the Moon and Stars to align. And when the astrological signs are right:
I Shall Sew!
Posted by Stephanie at 09:28, 18 Aug 2008
Uh-Oh... [Pointless Blather]
Posted by Stephanie at 09:22, 13 Aug 2008
Eddys In The Stream [Pointless Blather]
I'm confused and I'm lost, I don't know who I am
It's dark I can't see, only shadows and whispers
Running scared through the darkness
Searching and trying, not finding my way
The whispers are shouting, I can't hear them
I won't, they confuse and distract
Now I'm falling, I'm scared, I'm still falling
Through blackness can't see, there is nothing familliar
I clutch and I grab things, nothing helps
Nothing stops me, so dark I don't know
How far have I fallen, what lies beneath me
How far down does it go, when will it end
It is not a dream.
Posted by Stephanie at 14:04, 11 Aug 2008
It's Just That Easy! [Pointless Blather]
Posted by Stephanie at 01:31, 11 Aug 2008
I wonder sometimes... [Pointless Blather]
...what the hell am I doing? I don't know. I had a great day on Saturday, it was amazing. It all started with wanting to cut the lawn. A week or so ago a big tree branch fell and crushed my BBQ and damaged my outdoor fireplace thingy... I might have blobbed about it. Anyhow, so before I could cut the back lawn I had to deal with the tree branch. So I did - I got out my swiss saw and I gradually cut it up till it was all made into little logs. I then picked up the branches and twigs and whatnot, and finally was able to cut the back lawn. Early on, I got a small fire going in the fireplace thingy, and gradually while I was making the big log into little logs, I was burning it. At one point, I set my iPod onto some speakers so I had some music. Then I opened a beer, and then another, and so on. It turned into a wonderful day. It was fun like camping, without the 4 hour drive and canoes and bugs. Ok it wasn't like camping at all but had a lot of the fun aspects of camping. I cooked food on my outdoor fire. I drank beer. I cut wood and split logs. I managed to give myself a few small injuries. All in all, it was a great day. Then Sunday was ok. Not great, but definately adequate. I had a lot of aches and pains though from Saturday. Monday, more of the same. An ok day. Today, the long weekend over, I'm in at work. It was going ok for the first half - an ok day, although the wonderment of Saturday is wearing thin, the residual fun is wearing off... then pow. Unpleasant work stuff sets in, feels like a kick in the stomach, and I don't want to be here. I want to go home, hide, sit by my fire, drink beer, whatever. All the depression and hopelessness that has been kept at bay since Saturday, is back with a vengance. I wonder sometimes, if there was a class or lesson back at school maybe, where everyone else was told "here's the secret to dealing with the futility of it all" but I was away that day. I feel like I don't know how to live, how to deal with it all, how to play well with others, how to just stop caring and stop thinking and just be one of the many ants in the hill, cogs in the machine, just shut up and do your part and don't question, think, dream, or wonder. Does everyone else, all the time, want to quit, run, hide, scream, cry, shout? Does anyone else want to just put the world on hold, leave the world listening to muzzak while she steps outside for a quick break? Can you hang on a minute? I won't be long, I'll be back in five or six years. Or never. Here, listen to some elevator music while I'm gone. If only. I used to scoff at hermits; it's easy to achieve peace and spirituality, commune with the gods and nature when you don't have other people in your face all the time. Now I'm not so sure, after all what's wrong with taking the easy way out? All the modern conveniences are designed to do just that after all, make life easier for us. Maybe that's the real goal, is to be able to deal with people on your terms rather than theirs. I also can't help wondering, what's the point of it all - I mean everything. The plants and trees and animals and fish, have it easy. There's no guesswork. Their purpose is clear, their imperitive is biological. Why is it so hard for us? Self-awareness and ability to choose: blessing or curse? I look around at the world, how we treat the planet, the other creatures on the planet, and each other. We're not helpful. I wonder if it's all a big test, or a big game, and I don't think we're the object, or the subject. I feel like the game, the experiment, is the universe decided to fuck with the world, and see if it could survive us. We're destructive, we damage things. We take what we want from the planet, from the environment, from each other. If we aren't destroying each other, we're destroying ourselves. Drugs, alcohol, fast food. Yeah there's always exceptions to the rule, I'm sure there are people who are good and positive and walk among us spreading peace and contentment and take nothing in return. And we'll find them and lock them up or taint them or ridicule them. We're destroyers. And yeah I know this has meandered a long way from me feeling shitty at work to me condemning the whole human race, but when I get depressed and start to question, I just run with it. Now, how about that elevator music?
Posted by Stephanie at 14:19, 05 Aug 2008
Brilliant Idea for a new Buddy-Road Trip Period Movie [Swords]
I got this idea from a post in a thread on a forum about swords and armour. I sorely wanted to post it as a reply there, but it would be so far off topic... Here's the gist of the post:
for example, in the icelandic saga of gunnlaug, we have Hrafn and Gunnlaug intent on dueling each other to the death. They try to fight in Iceland, only to have the ruling council there tell them no - no dueling here. illegal upon pain of death to duel here. so they agree to sail to norway to settle their differences but again, the earl there tells them no - no dueling here. so they wind up walking into sweden just so that they could come to blows. that is a heck of a long way to travel just to find a jurisdiction where they would be free to fight.
So here's the angle - the movie version of Hrafn and Gunnlaug's Saga: You've got two guys, strong, athletic, but also kind of cute and loveable in their fighting-and-pillaging kind of way. They get in a squabble about some perceived injustice, something kind of small and ridiculous, but it gets out of hand. Hrafn steps on Gunnlaug's foot, or Gunnlaug crashes his cart through Hrafn's fence or something. So, there are some insults, some bravado, one thing leads to another and swords are drawn. They're gonna duel it out. But wait! No, not here. The ruling council forbids it. Well, these two get drinking and talking and finally they both put their foots down - their gonna do it. The fourth cousin of a friend of a guy Hrafn once drank with heard that there was dueling in Norway. So they're gonna go to Norway and fight it out. To save cost and make sure neither back out, they're gonna go together - on the same boat! Now you've got Hrafn and Gunnlaug, road tripping, getting into some wacky adventures - they end up having to save each other from the occasional predicament, because neither wants the other one to get dead before he can get a chance to have the darn duel! Finally, they reach Norway. Ready to Get It On! But no. The Earl forbids it. So they're having a drink, telling the story to the innkeeper, and he says Oh - My wife's no-good cousin had a friend who got killed in a duel in Sweden - you can duel there. So off they go, Hrafn and Gunnlaug, walking to Sweden. More whacky adventures ensue.
In the movie version, neither Hrafn or Gunnlaug actually die. They do get to have their duel, but it ends up in a draw - they battle it out for a full 5 or 10 minutes, first one then the other losing or breaking his sword, they resort to fists, and so forth. Finally, exhausted, the two are laying muddy and bruised in a ditch, panting.
Hrafn (panting): "Gunnlaug... I think I won..you yield?"
Gunnlaug (panting): "Yield...not a chance...I won't forgive... uh.."
Hrafn : "No...it is I who cannot forgive...ah..."
Gunnlaug (hesitant>: "Hrafn...I no longer remember, what we were fighting about."
Hrafn : "Nor I. Let's go home."
In the director's cut -- or after the credits roll -- the final scene will be Hrafn and Gunnlaug, back in their home village, where Gunnlaug buys drinks, but accidentally knocks one of the mugs over, pouring meade all over Hrafn. Hrafn jumps up in anger, going for his sword, saying something untoward about Gunnlaug's mother. Gunnlaug goes for his sword too, demanding justice.
The end...
Posted by Stephanie at 00:01, 30 Jul 2008
Categorization of Disaster Movies [Music/Movies/TV]
Although the Disaster Movie genre is not my very favorite, it's certainly one of them. It seems to me that in the 70s or 80s there were a few rather enjoyable films which fit this genre, and by and large, they seemed to fall into one of two main categories.
are the kind in which the calamity takes place during the first 25% of the film - usually within the first 15 to 30 minutes. The storyline then follows a group of survivors -- typically their numbers dwindle as the movie progresses -- and we gradually know more and more about the fewer and fewer characters, till the end of the movie when a handful reach safety. The Posiedon Adventure and Towering Inferno are, to me, the most typical of this class of disaster movie. To me, this category is designed primarily for suspense and 'thrills' as you follow the group through each step of progress or setback.
are more rare, I think. These are the movies in which the majority of the film is spent introducing us to a group of select characters and a looming or growing crisis which threatens them. The actual disaster is saved for the latter 1/3 or 1/4 of the film, in which some of the characters we are to have become interested in are killed, and some of them survive. Part of the fun of this type is in trying to guess which of the characters will survive and which won't. Score more points for guessing early, before you even know which ones you are supposed to be interested in. Interestingly, the best example of this category that I can think of offhand is Two Minute Warning, which most may not recognize as a disaster movie at all - the disaster is played by a man, rather than Nature or Technology. Nonetheless it is typical of the category, and the disaster does not occur until almost the end of the film. A more recent example that I would classify as a Type Two disaster film is Deep Impact. Also, virtually every episode of the documantary TV series Disasters of the Century fit in this category, as the show's basic formula is to introduce a handful of real people, set up the disaster, then depict the disaster in the second half of the show, and finally reveal (through narration or interviews) who survived and who did not.
As with all 'rules' there will be exceptions. More recently, I have seen a trend towards a new , in which the disaster is more of an on-going event. These start out like a Type One movie, in which we get to meet some characters then something terrible happens. The difference is, the Something Terrible continues to happen, or even gets worse, and we may or may not get new characters along the way. Initially the Type Three movies may feel more like Type One, and it may be argued that there shouldn't be a third type at all. Or that Type One movies follow the Type Three formula - in Poseidon Adventure, the ship kept sinking, in Towering Inferno, the building kept burning. True. In both cases, however, the continuation of the primary disaster was just that - a continuation, not a prolonged main event. A good example of Type Three was the relatively recent Dante's Peak, where the disaster was set up in the first 1/3 of the film, then continued as an ongoing event through most of the final 2/3s.Day After Tomorrow is another example of the type three, I think.
At one point I was thinking of expanding my categorization system to include some hybrid types, such as a One-Two (disaster occurs at the beginning, group struggles to survive, then gets wiped out at the end) or Two-One (1st half of the movie sets up lots of characters and threat, disaster in the middle, then 2nd half of movie follows the plight of some survivors - Earthquake comes to mind here) but at this stage I think these types do not need their own category; they may be viewed merely as unusual or malformed type ones or type twos - or even type threes, depending on how it plays out.
And one last comment - if you enjoy disaster movies, and you haven't seen Two Minute Warning, do go and see it. It's atypical of the disaster genre, but there is a large cast of familiar actors, and a lot of them get wiped out in the end. Classic Type Two disaster.
Posted by Stephanie at 14:26, 29 Jul 2008
Soon to be posted on my office door... [Work]
Posted by Stephanie at 14:45, 24 Jul 2008
Buddy the baby Skunk [Family, Friends]
I was wandering around my house after work today, not sure what to do with myself, and ended up out in the backyard looking at the plants in the garden. When I turned to head back inside, I spotted a little tuft of black and white fur on the ground at the corner of my deck. For a moment I thought someone had thrown a hat or stuffed toy into my yard. Then I approached, and felt a bit of fear, that maybe this was a little wounded kitty...
No...cat's don't have those two white stripes. I remember the cartoons, from when I was young. TV might not be a great teacher, but it did teach me the archetypal details of skunks. And that they are cute.
This one was not being as cute though. He was being kind of still, kind of curled up, and kind of...well dusty. Yet... still a skunk, so I decided to proceed with caution. A few moments of careful observation revealed that he was indeed breathing. A few more moments of contemplation, and I knew the best thing to do was call the animal control folks. I put the call in, they took down the info, and then all I had to do was wait.
Only... He just looked so... I couldn't just wait. I couldn't just go inside, close the door, and let him be Someone Else's Problem.
I stayed with him (from a distance), talked to him a bit, then finally got up the gumption to get him some water. It's been such a hot, dry day that I thought maybe he was just starved, dehydrated. Certainly, I could see no wounds or injuries. Not a dog-bite or car-hit victem, so far as I could tell. So, a dish of water. But still - skunk.
I ended up placing a little saucer of water down about 5 feet from him, then using a long stick, I slid the saucer along the ground till it was right by his nose. At first, nothing...
After some minutes, he started to move. He was lifting his head, sniffing the air. He could tell there was water. He figured out where it was, and tried getting to it. This both broke my heart and made me hopefull, all at once. He kept trying to get his head up and over the edge of the saucer. It was only about a centimeter up, and a centimeter over, but it took Buddy about 4 tries. Four times, he got so close, then he just slumped down, exhausted...
Finally though, he did it! He got his chin onto the edge of the saucer and started drinking. Skunks have cute little pink tongues and drink like cats. They don't look like cats though. As an aside, up close, Buddy looked like much more like a squirrel than a cat. Anyhow - he drank, and drank, and drank. For a few minutes. He seemed to get stronger very quickly, he sat up completely and kept drinking. I was very happy, and told him so.
After he had a good drink and got some strength back, he started to move - but he was heading in the direction of the street! After a few feet, he fell over. He moved as if drunk, or exhausted... Again, I was both hopefull (movement!) but heartbroken (staggering, collapsing)... Plus, I was now worried that he'd either wander into the road, or wander infront of some passers-by, or a neighbor. Folks don't like skunks and get all wierded out by them. I was afraid he'd end up in even worse shape. However - still, skunk. Wild and sick sunk.
I happened to have a small recycling box nearby, and a bit of cardboard. Without touching him, and without putting myself in too much risk (he really did not look like he had much left in him) I was able to negotiate him into the bin. I didn't want to keep him there though, it was kind of backyard grubby and had no lid. So, I grabbed a cat carrier. Due to another sad story, I have three cat carriers and only two cats. I took the extra cat carrier, and again without touching him or putting myself at much risk, I was able to negotiate him into the carrier. Once inside, I closed the door so he wouldn't be able to wander off or get into any other troubles.
The cat carrier was clean, had some padding to make it comfortable, and was sort of dark and covered. I think once he settled down he was able to relax a bit. Skunks live in dens or holes or something and the carrier box probably helped him feel a bit more safe and protected, rather than being sprawled in the open in the yard.
Finally the person from animal control arrived. She was very nice, and more than a little surprised that I had offered the skunk water and got him all carefully put into a carrier. After I had explained all the details I could, all his symptoms and everything I observed, she was able to determine what the most-likely problem was. She also could see that he was just a wee baby. Were he in good health, he'd have been stomping around in the carrier, full of piss-and-vinegar, trying to spray us both down...
Unfortunately, that was pretty much the extent of how far we could help him. I guess the important thing is that in the end, his final time was spent in comfort, with some clean water in his tummy, and a companion who cared for him. He was loved, and although he is gone, he will be remembered.
I would also like to once again thank the lady from animal control. She was very compassionate and I am very sorry that I didn't think to ask her name. I'm sure some folks could have been all business, just 'where is it' and 'kthanksbai'. But she took the time to listen as I told her everything I could, and then patiently explained the situation and what was going to have to happen. So, anonymous animal control lady, thank you very much.
Not a great picture, but the only one I had the chance to take.
Posted by Stephanie at 20:25, 16 Jul 2008
Cycle Saga, Chapter 2 [Sports]
I know folks have been on the edge of their seat, waiting to find out the outcome of my most recent expedition deep into the heart of bicycle territory.
So, the bike place did not call me back that night. Nor did they call me all through the following day. I was starting to think maybe I had dodged a bullet, maybe they weren't going to make me come in and buy the metal thingy that props up the back wheel so you can ride indoors (aka a "Trainer").
Sometimes, I am so naive and foolish.
They must have telepathic sensors or something, because they were able to tell exactly when I stopped worrying about it, and that was their cue to pounce! They called and told me the "Trainer" was in, so I could come and "see" it. Trapped, unable to escape, I brightly thanked them and told them I'd be there in the morning.
Happily, the morning staff were a different crew and therefore I was assured once again of at least a little delay before revealing my cycle-ignorance. Even better, the fellow who I actually ended up speaking with was not immediately horrified at my lack of bike-smarts, nor was he the least bit condescending either. When I asked how the metal thingy actually worked to prop up the wheely bits (or words to that effect) he grabbed a display bike and showed me exactly what to do, from start to finish.
After such great service, I really had no option but to buy the "Trainer". It is a bright red colour which I think clashes badly with my (purple) bike. However, people won't see me riding it, so I needn't worry about any fashion faux-pas. I'll save that till when I'm ready to actually ride outside, when the hard-core cyclists can fall off their bikes in fits of giggles when they see what I think is appropriate cycling clothes. (hint: whatever I happen to be wearing when I sit on my bike).
As we went to ring up my $200 "Trainer" so I could prop up the back wheel of my (purple) bike, I also grabbed some reflectors and a tail light. After all, safety counts and the last thing I want is to get rear-ended by some car who didn't see me while I'm cycling in my livingroom at night infront of the TV.
Posted by Stephanie at 07:55, 17 Jun 2008
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