Lyda Morehouse's Blog, page 50

Fan Aaaaaaaart!

Because I haven't in a while, and I JUST KNOW that you're craving Renji with his thinking face on, here is some Renji for you. The original makes him look even grumpier. Mason is finally all caught up on the Manga of Bleach, since just yesterday we got 55 from the library. He's decided to read the rest on the iPad and catch up to me, which will be phenomenonal because then I can jump around with someone else besides empty_mirrors (not that I'm looking to replace, her, mind, but she does live in a very different time zone.)

Okay, here's my boy:



The original:



It's like it was drawn by the SAME HAND, neh?

Two Difficult Things: Cars and Hakama

http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/archive/index.php/t-6489.html THIS is why I'm not bothering with real hakama for my cosplay at Detour this year. My favorite part of the first entry? The several steps that are simply: "cry."

Also, my car is a moron... or, as the nice guy at Dave's Auto Repairs in Roseville explained: "A Ford." Apparently, all the coolant I've lost in the last several days can be explained by this fact. Ford, in their ultimate wisdom decided that plastic would make an excellent coolent overflow container. Why? Because of course it will split its seam at several points during the lifespan of the car, which I think they intentionally intended to be no more than HOWEVER OLD MY CAR IS RIGHT NOW.

Mother[bleep]ers.

On the flipside, I'm quite contentedly sitting in the Dunn Brother's attached to the Roseville Library directly across the street from Dave's, sipping a Very Large mocha and surfing the internet. In a few minutes, I'm going to settle in to write and hang out here however long it takes to get everything done on the car (and possibly the novel, depending on how long the previous thing takes.)

Also, Minnesota, what's with the freezing rain? Did you not look at the calendar? It's April now. You know, the one with the showers that bring the flowers? Just so you know: SNOW ISN'T ON THE AGENDA!!!

I have to say that I've been very proud of myself. I have resisted complaining about the weather until this week, but the other day when I was shivering inside my house, I broke, okay? I can't take it any more. I was actually happier when it was 30 degrees and sunny, because at least the sun was warm on my face. Now it's wet and miserable and COLD.

In fact, I'd been hoping to take advantage of the neighborhood Dave's is in and walk up to HarMar Mall and hang out at the Barnes & Noble and maybe stroll over to Michael's craft store to see if they have the body paint I need for my cosplay tattoos. But considering how I nearly froze my a$$ off walking across the street, I think I'm going to hunker down here for a while... at least until I can feel my toes again.

Cosplay Craziness

Today was meant to be a writing day with the ladies, but instead I blew them off to get together with my friend and play with body markers. Anime Detour is the weekend of April 19, so it's coming up fast. I figured I needed a dry run on figuring out the best way to do Renji's tattoos. For cheap and easy my first attempt was with body art markers from JoAnn Fabrics. Probably these would work best if you were doing the kind of art that involved a lot of color. Renji (the character I'm trying to cross-play) has black tribal tattoos. So, the inital results are mixed:



Our plan is to make the outlines with the markers I've bought and then use a body paint (which I also saw at JoAnn's but didn't pick up yet) to fill in the darker lines so they'll loose that 'marker-y' thing they have here in places. To be fair to my tattoo artist, the pen was running out of ink already by the time we got down my arm, so that isn't her fault at all.

I really ought to update you all on the rest of my life. A lot has happened, but I wanted to post this pic fast so people can see my progress on this crazy cosplay thing I've decided to do.

I'm going to look like such a dope, but it should be fun as all hell. Especially since my friend seanmmurphy has agreed to loan me an actual katana, so if I decide to go full soul reaper outfit, I'll have a Zabimaru stand-in. I'm probably actually going to go with Renji in Human World gigai, because... uh, otherwise no one will be able to see me, right? :-)

Wee-wee-ism

One of the things that's significantly expanded my horizons is reading a book called "Japanese Street Slang" by Peter Constantine to Mason. It's a very RUDE book to read to a nine-year old, but only a nine-year old can truly appreciate how hillarious farts are. So, we often skip the entries on sex-related things (though I read those to myself and to him if they're not too graphic), and go on to the hilarity of bodily functions of all sorts.

I never thought our obsession with Japanese street slang would lead to a deeper understanding of weird moments in Manga like this one:



The fan translated sites went with, "I want to pee alone," which probably sounds even stranger to a Western ear--

--Unless you know about the villiage practice* of tsureshoben, "pissing together." Tsureshoben according to our slang book started off referring to when people used to, "take a break in their field work to go off together for a piss." The entry on tsureshoben goes on to explain, "Today people still quote the proverb Inaka no tsureshoben 'pissing together in the country.'... Another proverb worth memorizing: Tsureshoben, tabi no michi. 'Pissing together on the road.' This proverb indicates that urinating together during an outing or a picnic is a sign of friendship. Ideally, close friends should be able to drop formalities and relax to the extent that even when nature calls they can respond in each other's company." (149-150)

Yeah, so even though I love the fic that sprouted up to explain this moment, the above might be closer to the truth.

*A fascinating side note to this moment of oddness from this particular character is that his family is one of the big noble houses. His familiarity with country practices (and his general laissez faire attitude) has made me wonder what kind of nobles his family is... were they a family that made its fortune through hard work? The sort that perhaps brought itself up from a lower class, ala a kind of nouveau riche? I tend to think so. I think maybe we're supposed to guess this about this character from moments like these, though I may be reading more into this than is there.

Bourne and Baristas

Last night Mason had a sleepover at a friend's house. They don't have school today because it's parent/teacher conference time, so said-friend invited a bunch of boys over for a birthday party/sleepover. At any rate, this meant that Mama and I got to have a date night.

The last couple of times Shawn and I tried to plan something even vaguely elaborate like going out to dinner or having people over, Shawn got horribly sick (once with the stomach bug and once with a migraine). So I told her, let's not plan anything. Let's just see where the night takes us. So, the night took us to watching BOURNE LEGACY on DVD, which I have to say is the single worst example of storytelling possibly of all time. I'm probably exaggerating because I'm sure something is worse. However, this one really stuck out because it seemed like there were several things that could have been done to fix it fairly easily. I feel like no one told the filmmakers that basic rule of storytelling: start with action. If they'd started with the cabin in the woods scene (a little character set-up) and then blown the thing up, and let OUR HERO figure out that his own people are trying to exterminate the entire super-soldier program that ONE CHANGE ALONE would have made a huge difference. Also a little "show don't tell." If the big conflict we're supposed to sympathize with our hero over is him "running out of brains" then we need to see the HORRIFYING CONSEQUENCES OF WHAT THAT MEANS.

As it was it was jumbled and confusing, and thus ulimately boring because I couldn't care less about what was at stake for our hero or the love interest.

The love interest, at least, got to have the single LEAST sympathy-inducing line of all time. When our hero is explaining why he has to take the risk to go to the next place (keep in mind he's a killer who has been losing bits of his soul with each murder he does as a tool to the system that spawned him) she starts sobbing, "You don't understand. You probably don't care, but I've made sacrifices too. I couldn't publish! I couldn't CONFERENCE!!"

Shawn and I actually laughed so hard we had to rewind. I would have ADORED this film to pieces if the Bourne-stand-in hero dude would have shot her at that point. Because, seriously, this is your big sacrifice? You couldn't watch the power point presentations! You couldn't get the tote bag! The college coffee mug! The per diem!! Don't you understand I didn't get the cheap cheeses at the meet-and-greet!!?? I missed out on the inside snark fest of Academia!!

As someone who is the child of a professor, I do actually GET that colleagues and publishing and conferencing is one of the big perks of the job. But would you really whine about it to a professional killer whose GENES you manipulated as part of your "research"?

Did I mention she was living in a gorgeous Victorian on a 100 acre lot?

But she COULDN'T CONFERENCE, people!!! Don't you feel her sacrifice!?

Okay, all my professor friends. Feel free to tell me I shouldn't mock. I mean, how would I feel if I could never attend a science fiction convention again? Hmmmm, yeah, still I'm not feeling the HUGENESS of that. Sorry.

In other news, I continue to be a weirdo. I know. Alert the media, right? I say this because yesterday afternoon Shawn had a hair appointment in Edina at the "Hair Police." I always wait for her at a nearby Starbucks. There, I overheard a barista talking about how Nikolai Tesla invented "I mean, like, everything, man. EVERY-thing." I had to at least support him to his friends who didn't seem to have ever HEARD of Tesla, but then we got into an argument about genuis and insanity.

I have to admit this is a personal pet peeve of mine. I kind of hate that trope because I think that it makes creative people afraid of the medication they need to be stable and healthy. I think that stability and (financial, emotional, societal) support is what artists, writers and inventors need much, much more than teh crazy.

Being a weirdo I think is a fine requirement for the creative life. Being ctually medically crazy? Nope.

I'm pretty sure the people at Starbuck thought I was nuts. I mean, this is Minnesota, not New York! Not only did I barge into a conversation with strangers, but then I argued with them! Werid-O! :-)

Happy Ostara

Mason came downstairs this morning to discover that, despite the cold, the Ostara Bunny made it to our house. At his spot on the dinning room table was a basket full of treats (and Peeps!) There was no egg hunt because it was a school day, but we plan on decorating eggs this weekend and having a search on Saturday morning. The bunny will have to try to make Her way back. Hopefully it will be a little warmer for Her return trip.

Even though Mason is nine, he still enjoys the fantasy of these things. He spent some time before school checking around the house to see if he could spot the Ostara bunny's tracks. Sure enough, She had clearly encircled the house--though he was a little worried to see cat paw prints in hot pursuit. I reminded him that the Ostara bunny is magical. When the cat struck out, she only caught the smell of Spring.

For some reason, Ostara is one of the holidays we always celebrate.. uh, religiously. I think maybe because in Minnesota the Equinox is, as the Vice-President might say, "a big f*cking deal." The windchill is below zero this morning, but the sun is deperately shining on. So, we always, no matter how lax we've been about every other holiday, remember the Spring Equinox.



I'm about to take off in a minute and do some long-distance errands. First, I have to get out to St. Louis Park to our tax guy to pick-up our tax forms. Then, it's off to the Sprawl of America to return a pair of shoes that Shawn ordered over the Internet that ended up having a weird, curved heel she couldn't walk on. After all that, I'll be joining "the ladies" for our usual Wednesday writing date at the Black Dog.

I guess it's good that today is equal part light/equal part dark.

St. Patrick's Day Observed

St. Patrick's Day Observed was for us, as it was for a lot of people I suspect, Saturday.

We took Mason to his usual swimming lessons in the morning -- alas he didn't pass to level 5, but, tbf, "stroke improvement," which is where he's at is very hard. This is also a Red Cross program so they don't just automatically pass anyone who shows up enough. There are serious standards.

Our big social event was the party at naomikritzer 's house, where we were looking forward to ingesting the traditional corned beef and cabbage. We were not disappointed. I had a great time talking to pegkerr and her daughter and seeing haddayr and family again. The only lampshade/dim shablows moment was that I think I may have actually gotten a bit buzzed on the trifle (which is pretty sad. But, yes, I'm that much of a light weight.)

Mason kept us there quite late because he joined a game of "Clue." But I think good times were had by all.

Sunday was a complete pajama day, so I was an utter slug and did nothing useful. We tried to watch "Branded" last night--a science fiction film about advertising (in Russia.) It was... surreal. There was a burning of a red heifer and attack logo muppets. And those are the easily accessable parts. YEAH. If I were feeling more coherent I'd summarize the movie better and maybe even offer a review, but I'm not sure my brain is up to trying to explain the "space cow"/voiceover.

Unlike Shawn, I watched it through to the bitter end. I should have recorded the recap I gave her in the bathroom while she was brushing her teeth, but all you would have heard was a lot of 'what?' and 'are you serious?' and laughter.

Yeah, so it was called "Branded," and you could give it a miss, I think.

Today, I'm trying to work on Elite Forces, but I keep getting distracted by research into the Red Planet. Shawn found me a copy of THE CASE FOR MARS: THE PLAN TO SETTLE THE RED PLANET AND WHY WE MUST by Robert Zubrin, which I've started to read. I also listened to a couple of podcasts on Mars, and discovered a lovely site called "Universe Today", and their Guide to Space (not, alas, the Hitchhiker's Guide, but close enough.)

So total word count ON PAGE was pretty sad. I did a good amount of research, though.

Got Cake and Ate it, Too

My mom saw my post about Pinerest Fail and sent me a fun recipie idea that also seemed too good to be true: a microwavable "cup" cake. Its official name is the Duncan Hines 1-2-3 Microwave Cake. You can find the receipe here (or follow along below): http://www.duncanhines.com/recipes/cakes/patti40/3-2-1-microwave-cake/.

We assembled the ingredients. Per the receipe, one of the cake mixes has to be angel food. Shawn mixed them into a big plastic baggie, because you only need to use a couple of tablespoons at a time:


Three tablespoons of the cake mixture go into the cup:


Two tablespoons of water are added and mixed:


Goes in the microwave for one minute:


Viola! Cake! The instructions also suggested letting it rest for up to 15 minutes:


The finished product:


I have to say that we chose pretty bland cake mixes partly because we didn't want to waste any of the "good" stuff, like, say chocolate cake. So what this tasted like was those shortcakes a person might buy to make strawberry shortcake--quite sweet and a little dry and sticky. But good. I actually made myself a second one just for fun. I also kind of liked that, if you didn't mix it super well, you'd get these kind of crunchy sweet bits on the bottom of the cake.

Me, tasting it:


It was really kind of fun too. It took no time, and I could almost see bringing a bag of the stuff to a small gathering of friends and making individual cakes for people on the spot as a kind of party trick. I think the perfect companion would be a can of whipped cream (or fresh) and a pile of strawberries or blueberries or whatever your favorite fruit topping might be.

Because they are a little boring on their own. But, a nice, individual treat nonetheless.

It was also really awesome to have one of these silly receipe things work out. I have to say, I called my mom immediately to crow about our success.

Cars and Weddings

I was doing pretty well with all the crazy-car stuff yesterday until, while waiting to hear back from the mechanic, MY WIFI WENT DOWN and it would NOT come back up. Thus, I had to spend the entire afternoon completely cut off from the world. Previous to that, everything that was happening was a super-duper hassle, but I could sort of see how it would all make and awesome story later, you know?

But without wifi my world turned dark and grim. It suddenly felt like everything in the whole world was broken!!

And then I found out that the mechanics *wouldn't* be done in time for me to pick up the car before having to get to school to pick up Mason. I'd been feeling fairly competent and cool and in-control because, knowing that the afternoon could be tight, I thought to start diner early (I pre-cooked Swedish meatballs), Suddenly, without the Internet my brain froze! How will I get ahold of anyone? Do I even have naomikritzer 's cell phone number somewhere not online, so I can call and try to desperately beg for a ride?? And, if I can't reach her or she's busy, how do I figure out what the city bus schedule is like?

Ultimately, I will say that it all worked out. seanmmurphy had Naomi's number and, after I left my panicked, probably incoherent message, she called me back to say she could help. There was a little extra crazy involving a standing date with one of Mason's kuk sool friends because I could not get ahold of his mom (even though I had actual paper and pen notes about phone #s), but even that turned out fine in the end. A little crazy, but no one cried, not even me. So that's a WIN.

And as soon as everyone left, the car was home, and diner had been served the internet spontaneously returned--as if to say, "Okay, yes, it's all officially all over, and you can go back to your regularly scheduled LOL cats."

There are only a few lingering side effects.

This morning I woke up with a sore calf muscle. I realized it was from all the slipping and catching myself I had to do yesterday. My butt is somewhat sore, but considering how often I fell on it, I feel pretty okay about that. One knee has a small bruise, but, again, given all the acrobatics I unintentionally performed on ice, I'm feeling like I got off easy.

Ironically, there is still a rattle in the car. The back end is noticably improved, but because that part is smoother it accentuates the wheel bearing problem in the front. *SIGH* But, I've stockpiled all sorts of recommendations for good mechanics, so when we finally decide what to do about that I will try out some new places and hopefully have a better experience. I suspect I'll miss being able to walk home, but possibly I'll discover the joys of waiting at a library or taking the city bus.

One thing I did managed to do yesterday despite the chaos was go to Wyrdsmiths. That was a great deal of fun. After we critqued the one very short peice that had been handed out, we fell into our usual fun chatter. Someone brought up (possibly in relation to the new Pope) gay marriage. I don't know if you've been following Minnesota politics, but all of a sudden there's a bill(?) headed to the House floor to legalize gay marriage in our state. It passed the Senate House committee hearings and, like a ninja, has jumped out of nowhere to send my dear, beloved partner into a bridal tailspin.

As I may have mentioned here some time ago, Mason, when he was very young, made Shawn and I SOLEMNLY SWEAR that if gay marriage were to become legal that we would get married so he could have a proper family. Since he had been in tears at the idea we didn't want to "ape the patriarchy," we both quickly agreed thinking: "Ha, that'll never happen!"

Well.

In the middle of the night the other day, I get an elbow in my rib. I blink awake and Shawn is leaning over me asking, "Did we REALLY? Did we REALLY promise to get married?" I assured he we had. When I was able to pin point exactly where we were when Mason asked us, she finally nodded seriously. I thought, okay, I can shut my eyes and go back to bed. Another poke. "So... do you have any thoughts about what kind of wedding you want?"

One thing that's always been true about me is that, even before I realized I liked girls THAT WAY, I was never the girly-girl sort to pour over Bride Magazine pictures and moan breathlessly about the perfect wedding. So, I said, "Not really. You?"

She told me that she'd decided on a minister.

At which point I fully woke up.

Keep in mind that this is pretty much how it happened that we started planning to have a baby. Shawn percolates ideas quietly (sometimes, it turns out for YEARS,) and when she speaks them out loud, it's a kind of final decree because it has the commitment of time and often a great deal of research. I remember doing the dishes in our old apartment on Girard when she turned to me and said, "I want to have a baby." It took us a while to figure out some of the mechanics, but, obviously, what Shawn wanted, Shawn got.

This prouncement had that same kind of final ring to it. A minister had been chosen. We were getting married.

So, I had to wake up and pay attention. We talked about ceremony details. Neither of us, it turned out, was at all interesting in anything resembling a Church wedding. There was talk of just having a ceremony and a party at our house. But, then I confessed that my favorite thing about other people's weddings is getting to DANCE. If I wanted anything, it was a big dance hall, music, and any friend I've ever had that wanted to be there to be able to come and whoop it up with us.

Honestly, as I told Wyrdsmiths, while fighting back the tears: it only seemed fair. SO MANY amazing and wonderful people braved their own misgivings and fears and who knows what to stand with us to bury Ella. We should give them all a chance to smile with us, too. To be happy for us. And DANCE.

Shawn is looking into dance halls. We can apparently become members of the Czech-Slovak Association and get affordable use of their hall. I'm at least Czech, though Shawn wondered if they'd really want to host a gay wedding reception. I figure anyone will take our money.

My job, should I chose to accept it, is find out if LEGO Land has a wedding regestry.

Car Update

I don't normally post twice a day like this, but OMG.

Here's how my day started. At 6:00 am, I woke up and discovered that the flat tire that the lady told me about yesterday had reappeared. Luckily, I thought to shuffle out there in my PJs and take a look, so I could be on the phone to AAA by 6:05 am. They got a driver out here by 7:00 am, and he'd filled my tire for free by 7:15 am. I'd gone to the trouble of hauling out the spare for him, but it snowed. Were we expecting this? And, anyway, the AAA guy said he'd seen a bunch of spin outs on the highway, and thought that, if I didn't have to, since it was clearly a slow leak, I should just drive on a REAL tire instead of "that doughnut" he kept calling the spare.

I was feeling good about this, because everyone got to school and work on time.

I drove right to the tire place next and was EXTREMELY pleased that my tires were all under warranty still. So, I got a brandnew tire FOR FREE.

While waiting, I walked up to Target because they have a Starbucks inside and I thought: I need coffee (I really hadn't had much time to make my own.) I ran into a friend of mine that I went to college with who was working as a barista there. She introduced me to her co-worker as "a famous author." I never know what to do with that moniker, because to me, fame requires that someone has actually HEARD OF YOUR WRITING. I don't mind being introduced as a writer or even "a published writer," but that addition of "famous" is always embarrassing. At any rate, I told her that while I appreciated the sentiment I really thought fame was a fickle mistress and I didn't think of myself as ALL THAT.

Car done, I got home. As I noted below, my back end has been clunking. It got significantly worse yesterday when I hit one of those huge potholes on Fairview. It was so loud that it was freaking out Shawn. So, I agreed to consider going straight from the tire shop to the car repair shop. I didn't exactly do that. I came home for a while, squeed about Chris (see below) and fed the cats and took out the recycling and the garbage and called the repair shop. I was curious how long struts (if that was the problem) would take. They said they could get me in right away and that it would only take a couple of hours.

A trip to the car shop requires a rather long trudge back home in the snow. We only have one car. And, while buses can get me to the car shop, it actually takes a kind of crazy route that involves three transfers. The repair shop is on Wheeler (South), but it's literally a straight walk back to my house with a two block detour around the highway.

This is normally a pleasant experience. Even in the dead of winter, I find the walk to be pretty breezy and not terribly hasslish.

Today, thanks to that light dusting of snow and the warm/cold snaps we've been having, I must have slid on hidden ice A THOUSAND AND ONE TIMES. I counted. I went down on my a$$ FIVE times today. And, while I'm grateful for the opportunity to show off my amazing kuk sool wan ability to do so without suffering a concussion, I am officially DONE WITH THIS SH*T. What annoys me in particular is that *I* got up and shoveled this morning. Yes, my sidewalk has become a somewhat narrow strip, but it's still completely ice free and passable. What I want to know is when did it become socially acceptable not to bother to shovel a mere quarter inch of snow? ESPECIALLY when there's hidden patches of ice underneath?

And, worse, on my slippery, trecherous walk home I got the call from the shop. Yep, it's the struts. It'll cost you neary $800 bucks.

I think they're ripping me off. But, you know, I called them back after Shawn did a quick internet search and asked them about the price. They made a pretty good song and dance routine about rust and missing bolts and how the whole back end needed repairs that I ultimately BOUGHT. But, I'm going to have to have wheel bearings done in the front soon and I'm shopping around, damn it. I hate the idea, because I've been faithfully going to this shop (Wheeler Grand Sinclair 1) for YEARS, since before Mason was born, in fact. So, really over a decade.

But, damn. Crap like this is going to break us.

I think I could have coped better if I didn't end up falling on my butt so often! Anyway, fingers crossed that they'll actually finish up before I need to pick up Mason from school.