And I Shall Name it Hal....

Indubitably, the thrilling news of the hour is the fact that I am finally getting a new computer. Not that I don't enjoy this lumpy, doddering laptop (fingers crossed--please don't crash!), oh no. I love it. Okay, really, I'm not being entirely sarcastic. Despite the fact that it pokes along at sub-snail speeds and has a coughing fit whenever I try to open multiple applications, it has served its noble purpose (see last post for hint as to what noble purpose could be.).

The keen part of the new computer is that is is a Boy brand computer. In other words, he's actually building it. It's actually WAY cheaper than buying a premade system. You don't have to waste money on things that are non-essential, and you can bulk up the things that make your machine a monster if you want, or plan to leave places for additions that will increase the monster-tude later.

If you could see me right now, you'd know I'm tapping my fingers together under my chin and chuckling in a sinister way.

Brats of the Information Revolution

I'm one. Guilty.

I sometimes get a little consternated as just how much I depend on technology. My first response to the Apolcalyse would most likely be to run and look up some wilderness survival crap online. Until I realized that the internet no longer existed. At which point, I would get hysterical, sit down and cry.

If the internet's down, or the Boy's on my computer for some reason, I get antsy. I'm used to having things pop into my head, and within a half hour, having a basic working knowledge of whatever it was I was curious about, thanks to the information revolution. Case in point: the Boy was fixing/installing/updating something on my computer tonight, and I was huffing and pacing, peering over his shoulder, until I realized that a BOOK I owned probably contained at least a start on what it was I needed to find out about. A BOOK. With paper pages.

While I certainly don't yearn for the days of the card catelogue, I do kind of miss HAVING to go to the library. I still love the library--that certain swishy silence punctuated by the occasional whisper or page turning--magic. Just being surrounded by all those books was somehow a healing experience.

The internet has bred in me the unignorable (?) tendancy to EXPECT to get answers within minutes on whatever it is I'm wondering about. As a result, do I wonder about more things? I think I must, in some ways. I can't imagine the cluttered warehouse my brain would be if I had to actually remember what it was that piqued my interest, wait until I had the time to go to the library, decide which books were most likely to help, and then leaf through thousands of pages that may or may not have what I'm looking for. Chaos! (or as a friend laughingly puts it: "Chouse!") I think I just plain spent much more time Not Knowing in those days---a state of being which I hate.

I think what would bother me the most, were I forced into a dreary dimension where books were the sole means of gathering information, is that I would only be able to draw on the thoughts of people who actually took the time and money to write and have a book published. This was particularly the case tonight, when I was researching a medical condition I was curious about. Besides the official medical info, I wanted opinions from people who had dealt with things, how their doctors responded, and what the best way to prepare for the appointment would be. I adore that this sort of thing that exists in the self-publishing mecca that is the internet.

Look--I have a blog!

Some things best forgotten

I've been reading Michael Ende's The Neverending Story, and unlike many childhood loves that turn out to be ridiculously dumb when read/viewed as an adult, I'm enjoying every minute of it. The book is translated from German, which gives some of the language a slightly strange feel now and again, but this adds beautifully to the feel of the story. As a child, I adored the film, and hadn't realized (in relative terms)just how true much of the dialogue was to the book.

I know it may be treason in some circles to say this, but I've realized as an adult that "The Dark Crystal" was something of a boring movie. I recalled certain scenes with delight after seeing it as a child--the moment when the cute fuzzy creature bursts out of its burrow, with hugely wide open jaws, the death of the "good guy leader" vs. "the bad guy leader" when the good fades away, and the bad just sort of crumbles to dust. I seem to remember something about creatures with very looong skinny legs that ran quickly. That's about it. I had wondered why I'd so throughly fogotten the rest of the film, and it turns out that I had remembered the only parts that were really interesting. The rest of it is a sort of yawn-worthy blur of slow moving, chanting muppets. Sorry, die-hard fans.

One thing I would like to see again is "The Last Unicorn." I have a feeling that though the animation may be a bit dated, it will turn out to be as magical as I remember it being. That's another book I ought to read. I was amused to find that there were several t-shirts available on Amazon. This one rocks. "The Last Unicorn" is a Rankin-Bass production, so that's in its favor. Rankin-Bass also did the animated version of "The Hobbit," which contains my definitve golum voice. The music from Rankin-Bass productions is always memorable.

Enough rambling. I'm going to update my Netflix que.

If Flattery Can Even Have a Sincere Form...

I'm such a coppity cat. Patrice did a little retrospective, and I'll be darned if I'm not going to do the same. In my everyday life there's so little of the "ten years ago" era left, but what's held on has held on well. Other than family, there are 2 people left in my life from then, and I expect them to be part of the story for much longer. One is a British Lit teacher from highschool who's still a dear friend, and the other is now a brother-in-law (also a good friend).

Ten years ago:
I was a freshman in college breathing a sigh of relief at having FINALLY escaped my mother/drill sergeant. My relationship with her has softened a good deal since then, though I sometimes still firmly believe she's nuts. At that point it was all about getting out from under The Thumb of the hyper-spiritual, legalistic BS that was flying around and contributing to the many baggages I'm trying to get rid of today. The college was small, and in the middle of nowhere, but it couldn't have been more heavenly. I had a (small) space that was MINE, with no fear of the gestapo reading my mail or journal, or rifling through my books and music for innocuous things to be shocked at, disapprove of, and destroy. Looking back, I'm sort of amazed that I didn't fly off the deep end and get addicted to crack while selling my body. I'm sort of amazed that none of the children from that family (so far) have done that.

Five years ago:
It was all about music. I had to go poke through a journal to see what was happening. I had musically hooked up with some boys with guitars and drums, and it was a rollicking good time. We were playing shows, recording like gangbusters in the basment, and generally doing a lot of laughing and goofing off. I believe it was also the year we started getting played on the radio around here, which was a completely surreal experience. I think this was sort of the peak of the "eating, sleeping and breathing music era." None of use were attached to anyone romantically, we had all finished college, and the songs practically wrote themselves. I sometimes get a little nostagic for that time. I had a tight-knit circle of friends. We were creative--would take our cameras out and wander around various places shooting photos. We went to lots of shows, we made lots of music, and watched lots of good film etc. I'm kind of sad about Now--not because I don't go to many shows etc., but because I don't really *want* to go to many. I prefer to be quiet at home with a Boy and a book. I wonder if secretly I was always a quiet homebody, and was just waiting for the right boy and a place that I could "own." The circle of friends still keeps in touch occasionally, though I do see some more regularly. Music is still something I adore. It doesn't explode around me like it did though. Maybe it will again someday, bt for now, it's more of a quiet, personal thing.

As good as five years ago was, it would not be right for me now, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Five years ago, a friend had suggested she introduce me to a friend of her husband's--some Boy she thought I might get along with. Five years ago we met, and I didn't particularly like him. And two years after that, we got married.

Currently: it's a sunny autumn day, and I'm in my dear little house, procrastinating instead of working, with a cat sprawled across the top of the monitor making cranky noises when she stretches. I'm going to go visit my sister and little niece this afternoon. I know the Boy will be home a few hours after that, and we'll grill some tuna steaks and watch an episode or two of Firefly. Then we'll lie in bed and read books until it's time to go to sleep.

"Currently" is good.

Clump of Souls

After frothing at the mouth and raving about the gloriously ridiculous Katamari Damacy, it's pointless to discuss why and how much I like the follow up PS2 game, "We (heart) Katamari." The title says it all. Yes. I heart it. With many hearts.

This incarnation of the bizarre Japanese roll-athon makes no bones about the fact that it's only back because so many people thought the first one was the bee's knees. "What is it they love about me?" the massive King of the Cosmos muses, "Could it be that my head is of such a cool shape? Could it be my tights? Could it be my chin? Yes. Clearly it is my magnificent chin that the fans swoon for." (paraphrased)

There are always going to be some annoying things, to be sure--on a few levels it's really difficult to get the katamari to a point that will satisfy the king and the fan who requested that particular roll-up. It's also still difficult for me to do the rocket roll move without pressing L3 and R3 doing flipping completely around. I have clumsy thumbs. Bad, bad thumbs.

For the most part though, I find myself playing with a big dumb grin on my face, as I did the first one. It's silly, and it's just plain fun.
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Also qualifying for the "just plain fun" category is the not-so-high seas adventure of Puzzle Pirates. I take a certain wicked glee in the fact the no less than three friends have signed up and been soundly hooked in the past couple weeks. We finally met up (or our little digital avatars did) on a northern island, traded piratey swag, and chatted for a good while. It's nice to just pop on and say hi to a friend far away, and even nicer to collaboratively play a fun puzzle-type game with them.

What I need to be more conscious of is the severe nerd-i-tude emanating from public conversations about playing Puzzle Pirates. Offhand comments like, "Oh--I quit my distilling job and now I work at the apothecary. It's the best way to make POE without pillaging all the time," do little to enlighten any surrounding folk who may not be familiar with the game. In fact, talk about how your crew all up and moved to another island, but you're staying until the iron monger you placed and order with is done your sword... this may only serve to alienate people.

I do my best to be socially acceptable. Sometimes I suck though.

At the Risk of Smashing a Camera...

Three cheers for the brave souls who set long exposure times and fling their cameras up into the air. The results are pretty gorgeous.

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So the week o' wedding is over (for those of us not being married), and I must say that as chaotic and crazy-go-nuts as it could be, the end result was just plain... a good party.

It was outside among some massive trees on a little hill with a gazebo. The weather was gorgeous--breezy and cool, but still sunny. Ann told Ms. Bride, "I don't know what dance you did to get this weather, but whatever it was...it worked." There were some trees with tiny yellow leaves that fluttered down like petals during the processional. Beautiful.

It was also lovely to see and chat with people I hadn't seen...uh, or chatted with in years. It makes me resolve to be more intentional in my friendships. Good friends are dear things--I realize this more and more as I get older.

Hippity Happity Anniversary.

Post vacation reflections:

I may have eaten enough seafood while on vacation to last me the rest of my natural born days.

Sorry. No more driving more than 900 miles one way for vacation. After the tenth hour I get ants in my pants and want to kick out the car windows and leap onto passing semis like someone from a Gorillaz video.

One can never take too many fuzzy, distant pictures of a gator that happened to flop up near the back deck of the condo.

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Now, back to the Gorillaz video - There were no semis in the video for "Feel Good, Inc." but this is the one I was thinking of. It reminds me of scenes from Last Exile. I find it highly entertaining and appropriate that, as a band composed of animated characters, Gorillaz would, in an interview, speak about the making of the video as if it were live action. .

“Apart from the obvious thing, which is my gyrating hips,” he (bassist Murdoc) explained, “The coolest thing about the video would be the hydraulics on this gig. Just for the windmill section alone cost about 3.5 million pounds. That's sterling. We had to buy a small island, make a mould of it and then scrape out all the insides. When that was done we filled the whole thing full of helium. Using the motor from the windmill we managed to get the thing to float, but it was an absolute bugger.”

Snort! Snicker!