Yarn Piracy

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You're welcome.

Two weeks ago, my computer had a bit of an accident and kind of died. Turns out having no Internet is really, really good for me. I got tons of work done. Then there was spring break, which was truly fantastic. I got back three hours ago and have managed to read about two pages. I mean, I'm exhausted and jetlagged, but this is a little ridiculous.

Good night, Internet. I have work to do. By which I might mean napping. Also, food.

( Spoilers for the Battlestar Galactica finale )

OH MY GOD MY WINDOW IS OPEN AND I AM NOT FREEZING TO DEATH.

Couldn't this weather have happened when I didn't have to spend the whole day doing work? Le sigh. Spring has so much more meaning on this coast.

After almost exactly 300 pages, Anathem finally picked up. I'm 400 pages in now, which, after almost a week of reading, is a sign of how abysmally slow the going has been, and the book is finally the recognizable Stephenson I know and love. Crazy intrigue (much of which, I admit, I allow to go over my head rather than paying lots of attention), lots of unnecessary math (almost all of which I skip), outlandish plots and adventures involving really cool things like Arctic expeditions (or tropical expeditions or pirates or motorcycle chases or explosions or extremely high-risk pizza delivery etc.), badass brilliant women (version: genius and version: mechanic who sometimes combine their powers to form Super Hacker, known to the world at large as Penelope Garcia! Or maybe Elaine Roberts. Wow, even I can't believe I just made that reference, and if you get it, you should get some kind of serious geek award.), and the occasional really outstanding phrasing ("Our opponent is an alien starship packed with atomic bombs. We have a protractor."). That being said, unless it improves amazingly in the next 500 pages, you are really not missing that much by skipping this one. It is definitely not as good as Snow Crash or Cryptonomicon or even Diamond Age which I really didn't get at the time but would probably enjoy very much if I reread it. Partially because none of those suffered from 300 completely boring largely unnecessary pages right off the bat. (Mr. Stephenson, people write complete books in less space. You need a new editor.) But also because there has been a lot more math and a lot less explosions. Which was my problem with Quicksilver, until I skipped to the second half. (The Waterhouses do math, the Shaftoes blow shit up. One of these families is more interesting to read about than the other, with the exception of Lawrence Waterhouse. Why aren't all the mathy bits as interesting as his mathy bits? That sounds very dirty.)

Also, I am back to mostly-solid food, just in time for me to eat something real and delicious on my birthday, and I could not be more delighted with this. And the not having to take pills anymore. I took more pills in any one day this week than in the last few years.

Also also, my cats are fantastic. Even when Fiona decides to spend the night poking me with her hard neutronium paws.

You know what's really awesome? Solid food.

You know what's not? Oral surgery.

I long for a sandwich. On a nice crispy sourdough roll. Or curry. Or, ooo, samosas! A burrito! Sushi, of course. Homemade tortilla chips. Stirfry! A tofu scramble! Pizza. Pasta. Oh, so much pasta. That really wonderful chanterelle pasta sauce my parents made for a super special culinary treat last week. Salmon. Ahi. Salad. Quinoa salad. Instead, I am doing mashed potatoes, tapioca, ice cream, pudding. Rinse repeat. That much ice cream and pudding sounds fun at first, but I'm pretty done with it now. I am really not into the painkillers. I mean, I am into the not being in pain, but I'm not into the nausea or stomach pains. Why do people take vicodin for fun? But. My lovely mother has been very nice to me, and got me really awesome ice cream and keeps making chocolate malts. My lovely cat has also been very nice to me. She really enjoyed Day 1: Emma Sits In Bed And Naps All Day While Snuggling Her Cat. Having an excuse to rewatch episodes of Criminal Minds is also pretty cool. It's a lot less scary if you fast forward through all the evil bad guys and screaming victims. I think Morgan's tilde-shaped eyebrows (~) and devastating good looks have got Kayley hooked.

Right now, I'm reading Anathem, or trying to. Mr. Stephenson, if you had not already won my eternal adoration with Snow Crash and Cryptonomicon, I would not still be reading. There is absolutely NO need to make up that many words. An aut is a rite. A suur is a nun only more scholarly. A fraa is a monk only more scholarly. A concent is a convent only more scholarly. A saunt is a saint only more scholarly. A syntactic device is a fucking computer. A suvin is a school. It goes on and on. Making up words for these things? NOT NECESSARY. I have spent as much time looking things up in your 20-page glossary as I have reading 100 pages, you jerk. I am also fairly certain that if you tried, you could now write a book that was less than 900-something pages.

Cookie A. is coming out with a book.

WANT.

I'm upset by my uncanny tendency to lose umbrellas, especially if they are new or pretty or I really need them. I think it's somewhere in my room, too. Bugger!

First of three Spanish finals in 40 minutes. Not looking forward to it. Also laundry day. 8 days left. 11-21 more pages to write by then--not a problem.

Fantastic morning with delicious food in a real cozy house. My Spanish professor rocks. Her son is adorable. Also, I've been preapproved for all my classes next semester, and I only have three exams (all for Spanish) and two papers for finals. WIN!

( List of books I want to read over break )

Some of these I've read (Noughts & Crosses, for instance) or started to read (...a shamefully large number of them), but it's been a long time. Others I've been meaning to read for ages. I have five weeks of break. That's more than a book a day. This is going to rock so hard. I'm going to read and wait on cats all day.

...I think I want to knit prayer flags...

( And now for something completely different, Things That Cost More Than They Should )

First proper snowfall of the year! Great big flakes, and I think they're sticking now. Unfortunately, I have be at work, where I can't sit cozily with Fiona and drink tea and knit and stare out the window at the snow all day, but that's definitely what I'll be doing once I finish work. Minus the Fiona part. Which is very sad.

That and working on my great big final paper for Politics of History. Panic!

Also, listening to "Summertime" right now. The irony is not lost on me. (After which "July, July!" came on.) I may need a new morning playlist. Or a wintery playlist.

( Knitting rambling. )

Thanksgiving was lovely--Naomi is a smashing cook, her sister is nifty, and Wall-E is still one of the cutest things ever. Break has been kind of odd, though--I haven't been as good at doing work as I'd like. As evidenced by the fact that I am doing this instead of reading and outlining right now. Criminal Minds is a distracting thing--yes, I'm already rewatching it (and counting the number of things Morgan tackles: 12 episodes in, four doors, two bad guys, one other guy, Gideon kind of once, and Reid twice). Yay netflix for letting me be indulgent. ( Criminal Minds rambling. )

Why no one should ever ask me to write poetry--

We are supposed to be writing an ode (with at least three comparisons) for my Spanish class, having read Pablo Neruda's Oda a mis calcetines (Ode to My Socks). Being me, I am writing something silly (HATE writing poetry in any language--almost as bad as having to do poster presentations, which, thank god I never have to do that again) about knitting. I was trying to think of comparisons and something popped into my head about all the yarn multiplying like tribbles and threatening to consume me in my sleep. And I haven't even seen Trouble With Tribbles!

Well, it made me giggle hysterically, anyway...

In my next life, I would like to be athletic.

Just a thought.

Lately, I have (when not doing my reading, which is what I spend most of my time doing) been rather obsessed with a show called Criminal Minds. It is beyond fantastic. Along with The Wire, this brings the total of things with which I am obsessed which are not science fiction, fantasy, knitting, cats, delicious food (includes tea), sex/uality, kids' lit, or Caribbean history (includes race and gender stuff) up to two.

I am not entirely sure why this is, or why I am so perplexed by it. I could say Criminal Minds has some elements similar to sf/f--it's intentionally Arthurian-inspired, in just about the coolest ways ever, except for the season one finale, and I like my books/movies/tv shows character-driven like wow, which usually happens in sf/f and is definitely true of Criminal Minds and The Wire. After spending way too much time I should be spending reading Hegel or Zora Neale Hurston (guess who's going to win?!) pondering why I like Criminal Minds and The Wire, I have become curious as to why I like sf/f so much. It's one of those things I like so much and have liked for so long that I don't really think about it that much, and now that I am, it's hard to think of a deeper answer than, "Spaceships! Explosions!" or "Fencing, fighting, monsters, revenge, chases, escapes, true love, miracles..." Both of these make sense, but are cheating a little--the first because other things have explosions too (Criminal Minds has had two big ones in the fourth season alone, which has only had three episodes), and the second, because it is, quite obviously, a quote from The Princess Bride. Also, most of those things are not sf/f-specific.

Since I'm pretty sure everyone reading this is also an sf/f geek--what do you like about it? Spaceships, swashbuckling, and explosions are valid answers, though please feel free to elaborate.

Why, of course all women are feminists!

I must know someone who needs a Vlad the Impaler hat.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

This link has the full text of the proposal, which (in case you are not linky) pretty much defines contraceptives as abortion. FUN!

Advice:

When one is cleaning and revarnishing wooden lawn furniture, should one find a black widow, the thing to do is kill her with the broom handle one is currently holding. The thing NOT to do is run inside and look up black widows and black widow bites on wikipedia.

(Previous adventures with this project included use of the Fresh Minty Scent of DEATH! I carried a chair to the tarp, brushed cobwebs off it, varnished it, turned it upside down, and found a wasps' nest. The stuff does, in fact, smell fresh and minty. Also, very dead wasps.)

Today I left a message for my dad asking him to pick up some matcha powder for the cupcakes I was going to make if he could find it at the grocery store. He brought back matzo ball mix.

I recently picked up some wasp-killing spritzy stuff to get rid of the wasps who keep trying to build a nest outside my window. The back read, "Kills wasps, yellow jackets, hornets! Kills entire nest! Fresh minty scent!" Nothing quite like the fresh minty scent OF DEATH.

In more general news, my job fell through and I can't find another one. Cue stress and anxiety! In the meantime, I'm baking lots of cupcakes with Anna, taking a boring Spanish class at the JC, driving Kayley around, incurring carpal tunnel (I've had to cut waaaaaaay back on the knitting and typing), seeing as much of here-people as I can, doing jobs for my parents, watching Farscape (cheesy scifi goodness!) online, and catching up on my reading. Surprisingly, I'm feeling ready to go back to Bard, despite the felines and food and comfy family-ness. At least I worry about money less when I'm worrying about how many pages I need to read/write. Also, I'm going to have a single, and I shall make it ubersnazzy. I don't know how I'll buy my textbooks, but my room will look cool. Priorities!

I am officially nominating Lauren for sainthood.

Yesterday's travel experience was not my worst, but it was definitely not my best. Shuttle left at 9, got to JFK around 12:30. Checking in was fine, but I made the mistake of going through security before getting something to eat, thinking there would be food on the other side (nope). I sat and waited for about three and a half hours--hooray for having so much of The Wire on my computer--then got on the plane, which was the strangest plane I've ever been on. It was like being inside an iPod. The seats were black, and there were all these strange lights in blue and red and purple, and even iPod style controls for the TV thing. I spilled scalding tea on myself, they wouldn't feed me, there were screaming children right behind me, and we had Fun With Turbulence. I figured out how to play solitaire on my iPod. Those were a very long six hours. After which I waited outside for the shuttle for 45 minutes, pondering the foolishness of attempting to get through an entire day of travel on one scone and a cup of tea. Then the shuttle arrived, and the shuttle guy told us about the crazy day he'd been having. Two hours later (about 11:30 western time and 2:30 eastern), I got off the shuttle, and Lauren picked me up and gave me spicy hot chocolate and couscous and tuna (not tuna-in-a-can, tuna-a-slab-of-fish) she made herself and greens that she grew and this heavenly ooey gooey blueberry dessert thing.

She is AMAZING. Glorious. Fantastic. Marvelous. Many other adjectives along similar lines. And a truly spectacular cook.

My cats appear to be happy to see me, or at least to have someone with opposable thumbs at the house during the day. Fiona is already demanding things of me, all of which I have been happy to do (let me in, feed me, pet me, etc.). I need to figure out what I'm feeding Kayley for dinner, and pick up some books from the library--I went a little overboard when I remembered I'd have all this time to read, and that library = free books. After 20 years, I'm still delighted by that.

Note to self--the Internet may be full of things, but that's no reason to read them all, especially when you need to be writing papers. Especially bizarre second-wave feminist bullshit about how because Inara isn't a downtrodden hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold-in-desperate-need-of-rescue-oh-monsieur-my-poor-Cosette, Joss Whedon is a rapist who abuses his wife, and how black women and white men shouldn't get married, and all sex with men is rape. (No, I'm not exaggerating. Of course a woman could never enjoy sex, and equating consensual sex with actual rape certainly doesn't devalue anyone's experience! I do not recommend reading it unless you want to waste some time being amazed. She doesn't even get basic facts right, though I guess I shouldn't really expect that. And she says Rabbit-Proof Fence was about black women and white men. I don't know what movie she watched, but I saw one about Australian Aboriginal kids.) This will make you as angry as frothing-at-the-mouth homophobes, and you don't read things they write. Go write your papers. Knitting a few rows might make you feel better, but then you wouldn't stop, and you'd just watch The Wire all night.

Took boxes to the storage place today, but in Bridget's absence the room has been almost completely overtaken by more boxes filling with stuff. I'm a little afraid they might continue to multiply and eat me while I sleep. Laundry is done, though, which means tomorrow's packing includes packing-for-home, not just packing-for-storage, so the room might approach "neat mess" by the end of the day.

The Surrealist Training Circus was interesting--I'm not sure what I was expecting, but that probably wasn't it. An awesome set, totally cool trapeze stuff, lots of very lovely fire-spitting -spinning and -setting, some nice asplosions. I feel much more smug than I should--Naomi was wearing the sweater I knit her, so technically, I have helped costume the circus. The only real downside was having to sit on the muddy ground for an hour and a half in my favorite jeans, which I had washed about seven hours earlier. Yep--giant mud stain on the ass. I might just pretend it's not there and wear them home anyway.