timely coincidences

Some days the universe speaks to you and other days it literally sings to you. Like feeling physically and mentally blown and hearing a favorite song twice-- both acoustic and standard versions-- on the radio on the way home. That happened to me last week, but I sure could have used that tonight.

Sidenote: I'm copping to the fact that I actually listen to the radio and no, I don't own an iPod (and yes, I'm tempted to frame it as more of a statement against the isolation inherent in using iPods and similar technology-- but closer to the truth, it's never been in my budget and I despise iTunes). But anyway. Forsake the radio completely and you forsake the random magic of hearing exactly the right thing at the right time without assembling and scanning a playlist.

And then sometimes, a friend finds the exact video you need to see at the exact right time.

Home(ish) for the holidays

Facebook status posted late yesterday afternoon: It's 233 miles to Delmont, I got a full tank of gas, two cats the back, it's getting dark, and I'm wearing sunglasses. Hit it.

Damn typo ruined the effect. Bleh. Blame my haste to get on my way and minimize the feline trauma. They officially do not travel well-- poor FatCat yacked and (here's a first) peed in the carrier. Well, one doesn't. DamnCat screeched, but ultimately resigned herself to her fate. Mostly. It's probably because FatCat still associates long car rides with being dumped at a shelter on some level, even though it's been three years (roughly half his life). Poor baby.

On a happier note, Steelers singing carols!! Yeah, they really shouldn't quit their day jobs, but it's pretty funny watching them try to sing harmony on Silver Bells.

there's no place like home

What about my little key store? RIP, Leslie Nielsen.

My first experience of serious holiday travel (as in, not just a day trip) was not terrible, though not exactly pleasant. Take last Wednesday-- between Baltimore & Frederick (the first ~40 miles), I saw five accidents and four speed traps. Plus random backups (Frederick, the outlets near Hagerstown, about an actual mile of traffic trying to get off 70..). On the way home I only saw two accidents and avoided the Breezewood Turnpike-70 backup (thanks to my instincts proving correct). And my timing was spot on-- I got to Frederick just after the Redskins game started and before the Ravens game traffic picked up. Whew. I really don't mind the drive too much, but the heavy traffic and the bizarre propensity Marylanders have for forming backups in the middle of nowhere (let alone at actual interchages) for no discernible reason are taxing.

Of course, I was greeted by two extremely pissed-off cats. They weren't amused that I watched the (gasp! televised!) Steelers game with a Mancini's pepperoni roll (baked fresh the day before) with Penn Pils instead of begging forgiveness. Poor things. You'd think that I didn't drop everything in my arms to pick them up as soon as I walked in. Or that I left treats and catnip hidden around the apartment, the lights and radio on, new toys scattered around. Or greeted them with nauseating amounts of petting and treats. Though Pete did pull out a few hunks of fur (thoughtfully leaving them in the middle of my bedroom floor). Poor baby. I'm not sure which is more stressful on him, being left alone or being driven to a strange place for a few days. A strange place with a dog. I don't know. But he's currently nesting in my partially unpacked duffel bag, giving me a none-too-subtle hint that I'm either not going anywhere or not leaving him behind.

But it's good to be home. And it's good to have another W, even though we can't seem to pull ahead of the Ravens. We'll see what happens Sunday. It's a very tense time around these parts. A very, very tense time.

Speaking of tense, I have no idea how people commute to DC from Baltimore. The incredible storms today made everything that much more fun. And by fun I mean horrifying. I'm glad I wasn't driving. I'm home comparatively early from work, so I think I'm going to put up some Christmas decorations. But first, I've been tagged for the 15 authors meme. Let's see...

Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen authors (poets,playwrights and screen-writers included) who've influenced you and who will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes. Tag at least fifteen friends, including me, because I'm interested in seeing what authors my friends choose (To do this, go to your Notes tab on your profile page, paste rules in a new note, cast your fifteen picks, and tag people in the note.).

Kurt Vonnegut (precious few authors have defined irony half as well or warped my world view half as much)
CS Lewis (Narnia >> Middle Earth to me)
Stephen King (literary junk food is still literary)
George Orwell (those who would misappropriate 1984 should read Down & Out in Paris)
Leo Tolstoy (everyone should have a ponderous Russian novel to love-- Anna Karenina is mine)
TS Eliot (arrogant bastard)
Dorothy Parker (if only my wit were one quarter as biting)
Wallace Stevens (let be be finale of seem, the only emperor is the emperor of ice cream)
HP Lovecraft (eldritch! batrachian! squamous! noisome!)
EA Poe (the first short stories I ever read)
Oscar Wilde (see comment for Parker, Dorothy)
William Goldman (The Princess Bride is the best romance ever)
Lewis Carrol (first experience I can recall with logic puzzles, wordplay, etc)
Hunter S. Thompson (We can't stop here-- this is bat country!)
Sylvia Plath (predictably enough)

happy halloween

Let's start this off with Tim Curry. I can't tell you how many times I remember watching The Worst Witch before trick-or-treating-- and this part in particular has aged past Velveeta to, I don't know, port wine cheese spread ball.



Of course, any instance of Tim Curry singing will always be compared to...



Of course, Rocky Horror means it's time to do the Time Warp again. It's just a jump to the left.



And a trip back in time means the Misfits



Though this little pieces of REM nostalgia has been flitting around as well



I love Halloween. Not only does it happen during my favorite season, it's pretty much whatever you want it to be. Drunken revelry or sweet nostalgia fest, huge celebration or a quiet night with some quality scary movies-- it's all good, and who could find fault with that? Other than your no-fun fundies, anyway. I was Medusa this year (post-modern, anyway)--



Isn't that some scary shit right there? In a world where virtually all costumes for women are sexy/ slutty/ whorey something-or-other, I went to the classical version of the extreme opposite. Come on, it takes balls to choose something that basically says you're fugly and you don't care. Not that you'd really know-- you should be made of stone now. I'm glad I spent some quality time with some of my favorite people back in Pixburgh. My frustrating trip up (a wreck shut down the Turnpike and cost me an hour and a half delay) was countered by a beautiful and mercifully non-dramatic drive back. I obtained Pocky, popcorn, and pomegranates. I drove through a cloudy morning on an empty Parkway West and East while listening to the Ramones. And I was greeted by two very lonely cats at home. Hopefully it'll be enough to see me through the coming week-- it's looking a little rough at the moment.

core dump

In the past 36 hours, I've...

• driven 500 miles
• bought a drop dead gorgeous heritage variety pumpkin for cooking
• been menaced by pygmy goats performing a dramatic interpretation of Dawn of the Dead
• seen a civil war reenactor in full uniform fiddling with an iPhone
• met a new family member
• made a commitment to dye my hair red again (it's a strawberry kind of winter)
• watched PBT's absolutely amazing interpretation of The Three Musketeers
• had two cats and a dog sleep fall asleep on me while I watched TV
• enjoyed the dulcet tones of Bill Hillgrove calling Pitt on Saturday and the Steelers today
• looked like a suspicious person to the Somerset rest area patrons
• been rudely reminded that I need to drive as though east coast drivers are trying to kill me, because they are
• been attacked by two very irate felines

Now let's see how much shit I get from Ravens fans this week after they barely beat the Bills. I'm very disappointed in Buffalo. I mean, this week the Brownies apparently remembered that they're a professional football team whose primary function has been to spoil things for superior teams for the past few... well, for a while (sorry, hpo!). But nooo, Buffalo apparently looked in the mirror and remembered that they're still the Bills and they just suck. Oh well. At least we're still atop the division.

So. How was YOUR weekend?

insert clever title here

Because I am a (allegedly) lazy ass federal employee sucking at the teat of the taxpayer-- though I am most assuredly also a taxpayer, so I'm still trying to figure that out-- I'm home today. Though I have a lot of things to do, and I'm severely sleep deprived. So whilst I await my laundry-- and I assure you, it's not nearly all of the laundry I have to do, just the laundry that I needed to get done so that I don't have to rewear more clothes-- I finally downloaded pictures from my camera so I can start posting to Flickr again. I mean, I paid for the Pro status so I'd better use it.

The problem with slightly older pictures for someone in my position (that is, a recent transplant) is that they make you homesick. I saw a very large (Orthodox) Jewish extended family in Target yesterday-- and was immediately pierced with longing for my crappy but homey apartment and all of Squirrel Hill. All of the east end. I miss the 61C (the cafe, but I kind of miss the bus too now that I don't use public transportation daily) and having that kind of cozy hangout open until late. I miss stir fry with rice cakes from Rose Tea and dropping by the Sq. Hill CLP branch. I miss happy hours at Kelly's and Big Azz margaritas from Mad Mex, and not being surrounded by tacky purple.

tomorrow's just an excuse away

There's something vaguely ominous about this week being my last full week of 30. In seven days I am really, truly, irrevocably In My Thirties. While I'm hardly ashamed of my age-- no perma-29 for me, unlike my mother-- my response has been to be generally immature all week. Nothing major, just doing things like blasting Smashing Pumpkins while driving around aimlessly and eating breakfast for dinner.



(That really is a fantastic song)

I think part of the nagging unsettled feeling is the sadness that I'm officially closing out my apartment. My little piece of Pittsburgh will cease to be mine and become just another memory to gather dust and cobwebs. No going back now, no olly-olly-ox-in-free. No more studio that I mockingly called the penthouse and still imagine it waiting there (as it was months ago), waiting for me to come home (even as I sit on the same couch here in Baltimore). Now I don't even have a bed at my parents' (that now resides in my guest bedroom for when they visit). Believe you me, there's nothing that makes you feel more like you don't belong than having to sleep on a godforsakenly uncomfortable couch without even a pillow at "home."

But. Closing one chapter means truly starting the next. Now that I won't be driving to Pittsburgh practically every weekend (I swear, I know 70 & the PA turnpike as well as my route to work anymore), I can focus on developing a life in Baltimore.

If only I knew what to do with myself.

I like to be there when I can

A little more than a month on, and I'm adjusting to Baltimore. Slowly. I still need to figure out where I can get my hair cut, what dentist to see, those kinds of things. At least I can find the Ulta. And dyed my hair blonde-blonde. As in, I finally found dye that has me more-or-less at my natural color. For reals this time. It's weird to look in the mirror and still not quite see myself, even though this is the closest to natural I've looked for so long. Amazing how much identity is tied to hair.

I didn't realize how homesick I was until I crossed back into Pennsylvania and was surrounded by other vehicles bearing Steelers emblems. It's preseason, but it's Steelers football on TV in front of me. A-freaking-men. The off-season lasts forever.

My old place feels like an empty shell and an anchor around my neck and not at all like my former sanctum. Got to finish cleaning and patching and everything-- even though I know it's going to be (slightly) remodeled anyway. Frustrating, that. At this point, I kind of just want to hire a cleaning service so I don't have to worry about it anymore.

Now if you'll excuse me, the black and gold and a certain black and (white with) gold (eyes) cat that would like my attention.

Apparently disliking rape makes one a "feminazi"

I am so freaking disgusted with Ben Roethlisberger, with so many other "fans", with the DVE morning show, the whole bit that I'm not sure I can really cheer for the Steelers this year.

Lack of charges does not mean lack of crime. It means there's a lack of evidence. The local Mayberry PD bungled the case (not securing the scene, allowing the janitor to sterilize the bathroom before an investigation could be conducted, allowing the bar to maintain custody of relevant security footage and immediately erase it, delaying asking the GBI for assistance) and anyone reading the file could easily see that the woman was under intense pressure to not pursue anything (the initial police report was taken by a cop that made derogatory comments about her on the record, and the complete file noted that the woman supposedly wouldn't talk to police on the advice of a "therapist"-- what therapist out there would suggest that, at the least risking professional censure by interfering with a police investigation?).

Yeah, it's he said-she said with questionable consent (IF you're willing to ignore the fact that the case file states that the woman said no). Guess what? MANY, if not MOST rape cases are! And as a culture, we like to blame the victim-- she shouldn't have put herself in that situation, she shouldn't have gotten drunk/ high/ worn a short skirt/ danced/ worn a "DTF" button. Why are we so unwilling to hold the man accountable? How about... he shouldn't have raped her? What a radical notion. It doesn't matter what a person is wearing, where they are, if they're drunk or high, if they're a stripper or a pro, no means no. Stop means no. Inability to give consent means no. Really, it's not that difficult a concept. If you have to pay cops to abuse their power to guard the door, it's probably a sign that you know she's saying no.

But you point those things out, and you're called a feminazi. Ow. Gee, that hurts. If the radical notion that women aren't objects and you shouldn't rape us makes me a feminazi, then I guess that makes me a feminazi. And I'm proud to wear that label.

I hear from a shocking number of other Steelers fans the absolute most disgusting, sexist, vile comments. Somehow, it's all okay because there weren't charges. And the woman was underage and drinking! She's obviously the first person to ever get drunk before she turns 21 so clearly she deserves whatever happens! Mark Madden, that pillar of sanity, doesn't think that a woman can be raped if she's wearing anything provocative or is sexually active! I am ashamed, ashamed that I can possibly be grouped with the kind of people that think it's okay to have a quarterback that behaves like this as long as he wins Superbowls. Absolutely not. Winning isn't everything. And no, because it's been brought up as some sort of "rebuttal"-- I am not happy that James Harrison was barely slapped on the wrist for slapping around his babymama.

I'm canceling my blood donation appointment at Steelers Fan Blitz this weekend and I'm boycotting WDVE for Randy's and the X for Madden's sexist bullshit. I don't know when I'll next be able to wear my Steelers gear without a sense of shame.

Is Google really good?

I've been thinking about the Pittsburgh Goes Google (the last-minute campaign that our Illustrious Boy Mayor has jumped on (mere days before the deadline). And... I have really mixed feelings about it.

I still have a sour taste in my mouth from the Google/ CMU collaboration. In short, the situation was prime for resentment when university staff became aware of certain arrangements that were extraordinarily beneficial to Google employees on the backs of staff. It was only slightly joking when we said that one dare not say anything critical about Google. Google is good. What's good for the Google is good for us. And so on. Don't get me wrong-- I do use Google and Google services quite heavily. But Google also makes me extraordinarily uncomfortable. Contributing to the erosion of critical thinking about information sources and search processes is an unintended side effect, I know. But bowing down to China and questionable copyright infringement were calculated decisions. And I'm not comfortable with Google going beyond web services to software, and beyond software to service provider. It was uncomfortable with Microsoft did that (admittedly, they used a different path, but it amounted to the same thing), and it's uncomfortable now. It's too much control, even potential control, for one entity.

And let's think about the issues inherent with private corporations, accountable to only their stockholders. Didn't Pittsburgh learn its lesson once about relying too heavily on too few companies in too few industries? Would partnering with Google to build infrastructure be repeating the same mistakes? I don't know. Google appears to be unstoppable, but so did AOL Time Warner (remember them?) and the MS-NBC juggernaut. I don't think it's wise to put all of our regional eggs-- or even most of our eggs-- in the Google basket.

Break in the 'Burgh

Like last year, I went to the museum and Phipps for spring break. Wooo! Docents gone wild!

Yeah, I know, not so much. But I took a butload of pictures and drove my poor Flickr account to the point of a breakdown with all my uploading. God I love Flickr. What did I do without it? Anyway, for the five of you that read this, you can look at all of them on Flickr, but here are a few highlights.

At CMOA, Forum 64 featured a fractal-based installation by Cecil Balmond. A FRACTAL-based installation. You know how much I love fractal-inspired art.





Pretty cool stuff. For some reason, I really feel this Nauman piece.



Of course, I visited the dinosaurs.



And the rest of the CMNH, though I didn't/ couldn't take too many pictures of that. Lots of kids on field trips, lots of display situations that my camera can't handle, proprietary exhibits. And then I popped by Phipps. The volunteer went out of his way to greet me (when you're a member, your status and name are printed on your tickets). He wanted to make sure that I knew what orchids were in bloom, that the Spring flower show starts Friday but the installation was wrapping up today and tomorrow, and did I know that the OSWP show at the garden center is the weekend after next? The students behind me were a little surprised at the in-depth welcome. Hey, membership has its privileges.

And there were plenty of orchids in bloom, held over from the orchid show.







And I got a sneak peek at the spring flower show (opening Friday).

Saturday, and the living's easy

I believe that there is a sun in the sky once more and I am forcing myself to not dwell on things beyond my control. In honor of the reappearance of the sky fire ball, I was up at the crack of dawn (or more precisely, my approximation of the crack of dawn which involves neither cracking nor dawn) and down the strip to pick up staples.

I haven't been down in a while thanks to the weather and the jeep's bad behavior, so I almost forgot that there's little like a visit down the strip on a day when everyone is in a generally good mood to cultivate affection for this city. Even the pretentious woman who wanted everyone behind her to know she needed the perfect cheese for her "cab tasting" was bearable (though mostly because the cheese runners are awesome). The people stopping to stare at these amazing things we call honeydews were also moderately annoying instead of inspiring fantasies of smashing their heads into the melons (it's not that I'm a violent person, I just can't tolerate acting like a idiot over common produce). The gentleman at the counter at Reyna? He remembers me from buying salsa and guac for my family every time I'm down and making fun of Ohioans with him (no offense to Ohioans-- they just need their own day to go down and to stop getting their panties in a bunch over the prevalence of Pittsburgh Steelers merchandise in Pittsburgh). I had an amazing lemon-polenta-almond bar for breakfast, got everything I needed plus a few things for la famille, spent some time contemplating a pasta roller and other fine kitchen gadgets that I can't live without (but must), got Primanti's to go for lunch, and was gone by 11. And I even managed to get a parking space within two blocks of my apartment.

Now some cleaning, some feline attention, some writing, some sewing, and then some Alice in Wonderland.

Still in finals

Still in the midst of finals-- but now it's papers and posters. Have a few pics from my post-exam walk home today plus Pete being adorable. I just love rubbing his little jelly belly. It's like a living stress ball.

heavy day

Today was a rather emotional day in Oakland, with a memorial service for three Pittsburgh officers killed on Saturday attended by thousands of police from all over the country and Canada. There were literally miles of vehicles lined up.



The whole thing was incredibly emotional, but the saddest part was when the hearses arrived. The families were riding in limos and charter buses and vans behind them. One of the vans had two children riding in the back, whom I presume were a niece and nephew of one of the officers. The little girl waved at all of the people who had gathered, while the little boy wore a police cap and saluted back at the saluting cops.

Like I said, a very heavy, very emotional day.

In less heavy news, my windowbox spinach sprouted. Hopefully it'll be warm enough to put it back outside again soon.

April fool, belated

Spring has... sprung? We awoke to about an inch of snow today, though given how warm it's been it may have been as many as three inches.





I'm glad that I resisted the urge to plant more, no matter how appealing those plants may be right now. The brats have reverted to hibernating again, curling up with me or by the radiators. Only a little over a year and a half since EmoCat came into our lives, and both DamnCat and EmoCat/ FatCat can finally tolerate both being on the bed-- usually with me-- together for a short while. Truly I am touched. I myself rather feel like hibernating, thanks to absolutely miserable allergies and sinuses. Describing how I feel would sound like the back of an OTC box. The timing is particularly poor given how much I need to do for school and Easter. Speaking of which, I'd best cut this short and get back to paper-writing.