lost at sea

12:03pm: Dreamed I was at a Decemberists concert where Colin Meloy pulled me out of the crowd, wrapped an arm around me, and explained in deadly serious tones that I needed to join his army or we were all going to die, and probably would die anyway because just look at that approaching cloud of flying archers. Meanwhile, I sobbed hysterically because Colin Meloy was hugging me.

I'd interpret this, but I'm not sure what it means when your subconscious has a deep-seated need for the Decemberists' approval.

Plans for the rest of the day include guitar practice, laundry, hopefully some weight lifting, and a pool party omg. Also I am going to finish the second Turn A Square hat I have on commission, so I can mail it off already. My mother-in-law requested ages ago that I make some hats for a friend of hers who was undergoing chemo. Having promised myself that I would take a year off from knitting things for other people, I did not want to do this, but I wanted to be the person who says no to that request even less. So, nice fast cute hats, almost complete. Obligation fulfilled, whoo.

7:03pm: I have reached the point with guitar practice where the spirit is willing, but the flesh is like, jeez, give it a rest, you're going to get carpal tunnel. I don't think the flesh really understands my need to practice chord changes.

In the early afternoon I went to the nearby park intending to take a walk around the paved track. I got a few hundred feet in and saw that the flat ground to the sides of the sidewalk was covered with brilliant yellow wildflowers. In the winter the same ground had drifts of dried, flattened plant stalks, overlapping each other so that from a distance they looked like waves. The dried waves were still visible under this vibrant sea of flowers; I guess they must be the same plant at different points in the life cycle.

There was a path through the flowers, leading into the wooded area inside the circle made by the paved track. It was hard packed and I'd seen people walk through there before, so I followed it. I ended up walking for twenty minutes or so through fields and fields of flowers, all of us baking in the sun. No one else was on the trail. Not having anticipated the trek in the full sun, I had no hat or sunscreen and only a little water. I had acid reflux and felt sluggish and dehydrated, and after a while I began to have thoughts like, I hope I don't have a heart attack and die in the middle of the public park, but the paved trail is only a mile, and I came to the edge of the parking lot before any of that came to pass. I would like to go back there with Hoss, probably very early in the morning. Then maybe donuts.

Hoss had his summer guitar recital this past weekend. It was not a super awesome recital; his piece was not as well-prepared as previous ones and sometime between when he got tuned up and when he went on to perform his guitar slipped badly out of tune. He powered through the performance, though, and seemed unfazed, which pleases me from a resilience standpoint if not from that of someone who wants to send videos to all the relatives.

I made kale chips last night from a recipe off the internet and they were pretty good. Although, I don't know if you know this, but it turns out you can eat too much kale at one time? So that part I don't recommend, but the chips were fine. I also made a deeply mediocre pound cake--I don't know if it was the recipe or my execution or what. I didn't think it was possible to be bored by cake. Maybe it needed kale.

2:02pm: This morning I test drove three different cars in rapid succession, bam bam bam. The impetus for this was that about two weeks ago I got more maintenance done on my beloved Corolla, and in order to fix the air conditioner such that it makes it through the summer, I'd need to pay more money than the car is worth. It routinely hit 105 last summer and I drive all day for my job, so working a/c is non-negotiable. Every year we say, "Let's see if we can get another year out of the Corolla," and so far it's been great, but looks like this is it.

So I test-drove a bunch of mini-SUVs. I feel vaguely guilty and like a gas-guzzling American looking for a larger vehicle, but we can barely fit all three of us in the Corolla, and Hoss just keeps growing. I have a clear favorite of the ones I saw today, based on size, turn radius, and lack of obvious, boldface lying to me by the salesman. Two out of three salesmen--two entire thirds of them!--denied that the vehicle I wanted even came in manual transmission. "Oh, they don't make this model with a manual." Really? It's right there on your website, jackass.

My parents visited for a week and left yesterday. They now have a mattress and bed frame in their local house, which means that when they come see us they can stay at their own place, hooray! They're good guests, but this just sounds so much better than "in our computer room, which we have to drastically rearrange to accommodate them." In addition to the mattress, they have a hand-constructed platform that allows the mattress to fit on the metal bed frame. My dad didn't want to pay $130 for a box spring, so instead he and the Hubster spent $70 and three hours building a platform out of two-by-fours. My mom was like, "Only three hours?! Thank goodness the Hubster was involved." This is true. My dad on his own would build a meticulously-crafted work of art, with completion date approximately December 2015, and in the interim they would both sleep on the floor.

Hoss update: continues to display interest in both Minecraft and a more loosely-based hobby involving rewriting song lyrics for comic effect. Granted, a good eighty-five percent of the replacement words are "fart," so I'm not really sure we can consider this filking, but he's seven, what do you want.

3:23pm: What did I think of Avengers, you ask? I liked it! The Hubster and I saw it this weekend as part of our anniversary celebration, because nothing says eleven years of wedded bliss like Robert Downey Jr. As per many things for which I do not (yet, I suppose) participate in the fandom, I enjoyed the movie and then came home and read many posts regarding details I was not aware I was supposed to notice. It's fun, like being a tourist.

Before the movie we had dinner at a restaurant with, hmm, Mediterranean cuisine? I sound doubtful, but it was great, although served by an overly enthusiastic waitress who spent close to ten minutes praising each item on the menu in extravagant but repetitive detail. "We should buy that woman a thesaurus," the Hubster said. Amazing is a good word, ma'am, but your customers really want you to know that there are other fish in the sea.

So we ate and watched the movie and came home late, for us, and then about an hour later a violent thunderstorm blew through and knocked out the power for several hours. Hoss came in to sleep with us, which he almost never does--he's not bothered by storms, but not knowing what time it is (and thus whether it is time to get up and play video games) drives him nuts, and we had a battery-operated clock. Having him in the bed was one part sweetly nostalgic and one part like sleeping with a giant sweaty lamprey. This is probably what it was like when he was little, too, but it's different when the lamprey is only a foot shorter than you.

Actually, I'm almost afraid to comment on it, but Hoss is reading The Lightning Thief right now! I'm super excited for him to read something a step up in narrative complexity from, say, the Wimpy Kid books, and I like and mostly remember Lightning Thief. It is a step up, though, so there's also a reasonable chance he'll get tired, or decide it's too hard, or decide I am taking an untoward level of interest in his business, mom, seriously. Mostly at this point I am just casually placing the book in spots where he might see it and remember it's got swords in it.

8:51pm: Four or five weeks ago I caved and signed up for guitar lessons. The Hubster had been pushing for bass, on the logic that how can you have a family band with three guitar players and no bass, but I played french horn for nine years. The french horn musical catalog, if you are unfamiliar, is composed of a handful of impossibly difficult solos gracing a career full of off-beats. I prefer not to sign up for more of that, so, guitar.

I am taking from Hoss's new teacher, a serious, soft-faced young guy with dreadlocks named D. My initial impression of D was that he was low-key and perhaps a bit shy; it turns out that what you have to do is get him talking about something he's interested in, say for instance the guitar. Then, oh, then. In D I recognize the fervor of the enthusiast, that desire to talk and talk and talk, in detail and with great intensity, about subjects your listener may or may not care to listen to. In my case this is usually the fascinating role of tongue placement in common speech errors! In his case, I bet it's picking technique.

In general, I like D a lot, and his teaching metaphors could not be more personally relevant for a speech therapist. I mean! He wants to talk about muscle memory, and how it's better to train the right movement slowly and in isolation and work up to connected sequences, and how when you go to perform a muscle task it's like pulling a marble out of a jar, so it's better to have the jar stocked with correct iterations of that task! And it's better to practice a little bit every day rather than once in a while in a big chunk! Dude, let's hold hands and skip in a circle and talk about motor learning. And then maybe after that I can tell you all about my favorite articulation disorders.

9:47am: Title: Ascension World: A Place For Children
Author: Panisdead
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Rating: PG
Word Count: 12,350
Notes: Begun for Mcshep_Match 2010, completed for the 2012 SGA_Saturday prompt #46: ascent. Many thanks to Runpunkrun, Umbo, and Girlpearl for their beta and encouragement.

Summary: "Are we sure we want to go in?" John said, nose wrinkling. "I think it's educational."

Read it in parts at sga_saturday here, or in one piece at the AO3.

9:59am: Title: Reel Genius
Author: panisdead
Pairing: Jennifer Keller/Teyla Emmagan
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 3500
Notes: Begun for kink_bingo 2008, completed for the 2012 sga_saturday prompt #45: splash. Thanks to Runpunkrun and Umbo for beta. I bear full responsibility for the title.

Summary: Jennifer is undressing in Teyla's room.

Read it at sga_saturday or at the AO3.

11:21am: Happy birthday, umbo! I hope you're having a wonderful day!

6:42pm: One of my work kids has learned to say, intelligibly, "Smell my butt!" A great personal victory for him, a dubious speech therapy victory for me.

Also, a moment ago, I heard the Hubster exclaiming in disgust from the other room and rushed in to learn that Zebadiah had just barfed on top of the bookcase, what the hell, cat! And apparently not for the first time. I already have to patrol my bed, the chairs, and the floor! I don't want to patrol the tops of my bookcases for cat vomit! What's next, the ceiling fan?

We have sky-high pollen counts and a massive encroaching thunderstorm, and as such everybody I have talked to today is in a bad mood. I am not in a bad mood, because once you get past the initial shock a cat vomiting from on high is hilarious, calling to mind God imbuing Adam with the spark of life from atop the bookshelves, but I just want to point out that if I were in a bad mood I'd have justification.

9:07pm: Earlier this week I made Rachael Ray's fajita chilaquiles casserole from her Rachael Ray's Look + Cook cookbook, and it was terrific. I got the cookbook from my sister-in-law M for Christmas, and I've probably made ten recipes out of it by this point. I recommend the casserole quite highly, and the book as a whole with the understanding that while the recipes tend to taste great, they also tend to call for hard-to-find or expensive ingredients, are often missing key meal components such as "vegetables" or "any source of protein whatsoever," and may contain up to 75,000 calories per serving. Also the recipes are written as a giant square block of text rather than as individual steps, which can be confusing. But they have been pretty comprehensively great! Don't let me dissuade you.

Also, I am ninety-five percent sure that my sister-in-law only bought the book for me because we made plans at the last minute to spend part of Christmas at their house. She and I have a previously negotiated, long-standing agreement that we only do gifts for the kids, not each other, or at least I thought we did until we showed up at their house on Christmas afternoon to find a small mountain of wrapped packages from my sister-in-law to all three of us because she "thought it would be fun if we had something to open." We had brought a). nothing for the adults, and b). only gift cards for the kids that c). turned out to be the crappy kind of gift cards that had a $5 activation fee, so they didn't even get the full amount on the card, awesome. So every time I look at the cover of this book I relive my Christmas cheapskate mortification, but the point I was originally going for was that that fajita casserole is great, and you should either make it or borrow the recipe for the spice rub and make something else. It'll be delicious! And maybe somebody else can get some good karma out of this book.

10:29am: I know it was back on Wednesday, but Leap Day! We celebrated by doing silly things that we only do every four years. This time around I let Hoss set his alarm for 5:45am so he could get up and play video games before school, then we all had ice cream for breakfast. Then that evening the Hubster had free tickets to a concert taping, so we had a babysitter on a school night, which is also unusual. I originally had much more grandiose plans ("Let's all get up early and go swimming before school! Let's spend the night in a hotel in town!") but it turns out we're busy and frequently tired on Wednesdays? I was happy with the scaled-back version, though. It was just the right level of frivolity. Although ugh, I cannot really eat ice cream for breakfast anymore.

I was wondering aloud during breakfast if Hoss would still be into Leap Day the next time around or if he'd be like, "Mooooom, cut it out," because he'll be eleven, holy fuck, and Hoss asked what the crazy thing was that we did last Leap Day, when he was three. I am pleased that you think this is an enduring tradition, son, and not something I made up on the fly! I'll have to check my archives to see if we did anything frivolous by accident last time.

The free concert we attended was of The Civil Wars, taping for a broadcast event. It was a lot of fun. I was telling Shell that I came away from the concert with a desire to buy their album to play in the background when we had parties, rather than to listen to in the car with my full attention, but that is more reflective of my disinclination to listen to sad or dreamy music during work hours when I need my energy rather than a condemnation of the group. They were particularly fun to watch perform--at first I found their swaying, sinuous, belly-dance-arms style of stage movement kind of overblown and embarrassing, but by two or three songs in I was totally into it, and them, and loved watching how synchronized and in tune with each other they were. Recommended, although it probably helps if you like sad music.

3:01pm: In the car, playing "The Saga Begins" by Weird Al:

Me, belting it out: Maybe VADER someday LATER now he's just a small fry!
Hoss, happily singing along from the back seat: Zero one zero one one zero zero one one one zero!

Binary filking! I like it.

5:36pm: Hoss has cat scratch fever again, or whatever you call it when your lymph nodes balloon out like a bullfrog throat pouch in the absence of any actual cat scratches. "My, he does have a robust response on that side!" said the doctor, presumably because it would have seemed declasse for her to say, "Hot damn, look at those lymph nodes!"

He seems more or less okay--low fever, sore neck, wants to sit on the couch and lean on me, but ate like a wild animal at dinner just the same. I have a very light work schedule this week so it's no particular trouble to keep him home, even. I guess in some ways I count that a win.

The Hubster and I are going to try out some Sherlock this evening. I almost feel like I should keep it a secret in case I want to watch it apart from fandom. The show seems to engender a high-intensity response from many people--which is awesome--but I'm kind of enjoying not being in a high-intensity fandom right now.

8:47am: Hoss's Friend S came over at the ungodly hour of 7:15am this morning as a favor to his parents, who have separate out of town events to attend. There was little boy detritus all over my house before even 9am.

It's interesting to eavesdrop on them, though. They have reasonably good conflict resolution skills between them, which I guess might be innate because they certainly didn't learn them from me. I kind of like listening to them argue.

Normally I might be less fazed by the early-morning arrival, but the Hubster and I went to a concert last night and stayed out past our bedtimes. The concert seemed like fun when we bought tickets (Jonathan Coulton opening for They Might Be Giants), but mostly was just an exercise in how we are ancient cantankerous fogeys who don't like crowds or waiting or standing around for hours or strobe lights or listening to music that sounds better on the CD anyway. Or maybe we just shouldn't stay out late on a Friday night when we're both tired and getting over viruses. In any case, we left the concert early because when you're a fogey all that standing makes your lower back hurt.

I recently rearranged my shelf to better display my obligatory fandom action figures (Mulder, Scully, John, Rodney, and bobble-head Joey Fatone), and it turns out that when you put Mulder in close proximity to John Sheppard the difference in their scale and coloring makes Mulder look wan and delicate and elfin. He could be John's nattily dressed but prepubescent son. Or the guy John tosses through a space gate as a warning to insurgents, if you're in a certain type of AU.

1:49pm: So, the other day I read through seven thousand fandom_secrets posts, and in one of them I saw a black and white line drawing of a tree--stylized, curving to the left--that I really want to find. The secret referenced some popular feminist blogs, with title and logo, so I assume the design is from of them. There were three blogs mentioned, but I can't remember all of their names, although I recognized them at the time.

I've checked Jezebel and Feministing and didn't see the design. A quick google didn't pull up anything promising--I have the frustrating feeling that if I were to ignore the third name it would pop into my mind, but it hasn't yet. Where else should I check? Does anyone know what I'm talking about?

ETA: Shakesville! What a relief.

11:11am: Hoss and I are home today as he has a bad cold. (In retrospect, he probably could have gone to school; he sounded a lot more congested and gross this morning than he does now. But he slept through his alarm, and he never sleeps in. I was thrown).

Hoss: Mom, what was the biggest hit of 1998? Books, movies, whatever.
Me: Uh, what was I doing in 1998? I think that was the year I moved to Texas. That might have been the year the first Lord of the Rings movie came out.
Hoss, confident: That was December 19th.
Me: I...what?
Hoss: Yes, because remember in Foxtrot when Jason's dressing up as Gandalf for the movie?
Me: That is. Quite possible.

I checked, and Fellowship of the Ring came out on December 10th, 2001, so technically we were both wrong. But I don't really think that was the point.

Earlier I received a call from a befuddled woman who turned out to be one of my clients' moms, looking for the other therapist. The shrieking I could hear in the background as of malevolent demons being tortured was likely our client pitching a giant fit, so I'm guessing the other therapist is probably glad I passed her number along.

I think we will probably lie around the house today, possibly with a break later to take a walk. That sounds great, actually.

5:30pm: Happy birthday to me! I am thirty-five, for your records. Hoss and the Hubster made me breakfast (waffles with a fruit and Redi-Whip face on them, which might be a tradition by this point) and we had sushi and cake and hanging out with Shell this afternoon. Then I did a bunch of laundry and went to the grocery store, which is not birthday material, but does mean we have food and pants for a while. The Hubster will be out of town for much of next week and, while I will miss him, I am super looking forward to only accounting for the food, laundry, and transportation needs of two people. And yet I know myself and my propensity for filling any available free time with routine housecleaning, so I want to offload as much of that as possible while he's still here.

We are going to dinner tonight at an interior Mexican place I've been dying to try, and Hoss is going to eat leftover cake and play Mario Kart with the babysitter until he passes out. I think we'll all have fun.

9:34pm: I made lamb kebabs last night, and they were very good--surprisingly so, since I don't usually like lamb and was humoring the Hubster--but they smoked like crazy. I woke up at 2:00am last night and it smelled like someone was roasting a lamb in my bedroom. The smell was still so strong this morning I opened the windows, turned on the fans, and left the heat running while I was at work in total defiance of our electric bill. It was successful, though. Tonight the house just smells like stir-fry. If I were to wake up to someone oven-baking tofu in my bedroom it would feel like less of an affront.

Tomorrow I go see a guy about my knee. It's Dr. Not My Fuckin' Problem, the orthopedist who remote-evaluated my shoulder, so I'm not wildly optimistic. Although to give him credit, it's about two and a half months since I fell, and he's right, I'm mostly back to normal. So maybe I will let him use his x-ray vision on my cartilage before I write him off.

I know they say three things make a post, but I don't always live by their rules.

6:03pm: Hoss has a friend spending the night for the first time ever, holy cow. We picked him up and they squealed on the ride home about how they'd been waiting for this day all year, because it's a new year, 2012, get it get it? So far their plans include: building pencil boxes in the garage with the Hubster, rocking out, and something involving a clinking duffel bag that necessitated phrases like, "Oh, is that your voltmeter? Cooooool," and, "Now, we're going to start with the standard circuit board." I think friend S is a little more into electronics than Hoss, but he does not have cordless drill privileges at home while Hoss does, so we'll see how they end up spending their time. I personally have not yet decided if I plan to spend my time in fascinated observation or boggling over where my baby went and crying into my beer.

On a related note, I usually like Shiner, but their Dortmunder Style Spring Ale tastes distinctly of wet dog. I bet that's not what they were aiming for.

Okay, updated, we have eaten pizza and survived Hoss getting (probable) wood chips in his eye. Now to see if friend S makes it through the night--his mom gives it about a fifty percent chance.

3:30pm: Dinner emergency: should uncooked tempeh have black mottling across the top? I'm guessing it's gone bad, but I've never used it before.

9:45pm: ( Fandom Snowflake Challenge, Day 8 )

I woke up bolt upright at 3am last night clutching my kneecap, to which something spontaneous and shockingly painful was happening. Hot, burning pain through the front of my knee, like getting a bolt drilled. I woke the Hubster up making pain noises, so the first thing I remember is him saying, "Are you okay?" in his pissy default middle-of-the-night voice. I managed to pop the joint and the pain went away very quickly, but wow. I've had something similar happen once or twice before--I hyper-extend my knee in my sleep or something, who knows--but this was striking in its intensity.

We bought an IKEA-riffic sofa and it was delivered today. The Hubster has spent the last two hours or so assembling it, as it came in rectangles. I asked if he wanted help but he declined, and you better believe I took that at face value. But now it's almost assembled! I bought orange patterned throw pillows, and I cannot wait to lie on the sofa and rhapsodize about how orange is my new favorite color.

8:54pm: ( Fandom Snowflake Challenge, Day 7 )

3:54pm: ( Fandom Snowflake Challenge, Day 6 )

6:57am: ( Fandom Snowflake Challenge, Day 5 )

8:07pm: ( Fandom Snowflake Challenge, Day 2 )