five thousand shades of blue

---

she lowered the knife and it grew even brighter

(from The Mysteries of Harris Burdick by Chris Van Allsburg)

Aforementioned temp job is now mine. Unfortunately, it doesn't begin training until 11/26. Sigh.

However, they all seem like nice folks, and they gave me a sample box of chocolate on my way out. Really, you can't beat that (and the chocolates are very tasty).

And I finally have a typing speed score to stick on my resumé: 72 wpm, 100% accuracy. Go me.

Since it's that time of year again, I shall yet again recommend The History of Halloween: Myths, Monsters and Devils.

Didn't have a 'real' weekend, since I worked at the café on Saturday. And a busy Saturday it was too. By the time I left I was exhausted. But Saturday and Sunday were awfully pleasant even if I didn't get anything done. It was a movie kind of weekend. Aside from Memento on Friday night, we watched Stargate on Saturday night, and on Sunday we went to go see Mulholland Drive. There is no really clear way to describe this film, but I think Roger Ebert's review sums it up about as closely as one can possibly get: "Mulholland Drive isn't like Memento, where if you watch it closely enough, you can hope to explain the mystery. There is no explanation. There may not even be a mystery." Just when you think you've got a handle on what happened, there is one little tiny thing about your theory that throws it into a tailspin. I still can't decide, really, if David Lynch is a sheer genius or the ultimate con artist.

So, I don't feel like I got an hour of my life back. Damn.

Interview tomorrow for temp work for the Christmas holiday. I'm pretty confident they'll hire me. It's not great pay (though better than minimum!), but it will do.

I'd love to see the Crocodile Hunter tangle with this croc. *grin*

I'm still thinking about it this morning.

It's a truly weird experience to set Google to looking for your last name, especially if it's not a common one like Smith or Jones (something I think everyone should do).

Apparently I share my last name with: a plateau in the Caucasus Mountains; an oil pipeline (along with the name "Akstafa") in Azerbaijan; a renowned cellular biologist in Poland; a Reform Party activist in New Jersey; president of a police organization in New York; a football player in the UK; a Czech javelin thrower (and several other athletes in Europe); a whole family who runs a Czech hotel; a software engineer in California (who, strangely enough, grew up close to me, but we're not related); and incomprehensible pages in Polish mentioning Jakub and Borys and Sylwie other people I have never heard of. And a woman in England who appears to have a very similar name to me (though it appears she acquired the combination though marriage).

Some of my past, er, works also turn up in the weirdest places, like a mention on a Swedish page about August Strindberg.

But not one single actual family member. :P

Struck suddenly and completely this morning, staring at Orion and his canine companion, with the stark (yet obvious) realization that this planet is surrounded on all sides by blackness and the occasional pin prick of light. Daytime is an illusion of atmosphere. I found my knees wobbling like they do when I'm at a great height looking down, for there was nothing in my range of vision but darkness and stars.

I need more sleep. This weekend I'll get back that precious one hour that was stolen from me in the spring.

Suddenly, all the male customers in my café are speaking with high-pitched voices. Apparently, it's Falsetto Friday.

Well, reBlogger, I'm dumping you. Sorry things didn't work out.

(I'm still working on customizing the colours for BlogBack.)

Wow. I'm not sure how this slipped by all of my geeky Trek friends and me with nary a mention: ten years ago yesterday Gene Roddenberry passed away.

It appears that ReBlogger is having Issues of the internal server sort, and posting comments is not happenin' at the moment. If you have a comment you can't wait to send to me, use the mailto link at the right, but take out the obviously dummy part of the address (to foil spambots).

There's a food store in town that one needs to think of in terms of The Island of Misfit Groceries. The stuff that ends up here is seasonal, foreign-marketed, and just plain "what were they thinking?" products. It's truly bizarre to walk into this place and see Wegman's and Tops products, Bisquick in Hebrew, and Halloween-themed cereal in December.

Yesterday though I stumbled onto an amazing find: mango Tang! The packaging is largely in Arabic.... but that matters little. The taste .... it's just like mango. Yummmm. I want to get some vanilla ice cream and make quick-n-dirty mango lassi blender drinks. Come on, Tang people, market this stuff to the US!!

Announcing new footnote style: Hover your mouse over underlined words like these and look to status bar. Woo!

So here we are, nearly at the end of October, nearly at the end of 2001 (which, I have mentioned, I will be glad to see the end of), and another year gone. Time is so strange and so uniformly parsed out, that now I am barely aware when school starts and stops again; seeing children outside playing often causes me to stop and think "Shouldn't they be in school?", even when it's July. I have this personal, unproven theory that the speed of time accelerates exponentially with number of years lived, which is why 30 years of dedicated service in a job of your choice passes in the blink of an eye, winter break in college feels a little too short but acceptable for a mid-semester break, and summer vacation goes on forever when you're a kid.

I have added a picture to my previous blog of the award pendant I received. In case you're curious. :)

This morning's post is exceptionally SCA heavy, so hang on tightly and enjoy the ride. [edited on 10/23 to use new footnote style.]

This past weekend was actually very, very good. I went down to Fall Creek for our group's annual bardic festival/competition, Amergin's Revenge. I had been charged with making sure there were enough award charters painted to be given out in court, plus I was also requested to be on site to fill in names and dates, make and bring the official Baronial seals, and otherwise tend to last minute scribal duties. I have learned, with regards to scribal duties, several key things: 1.) the list or award recipients that the Baron and Baroness give you to prepare scrolls for is only preliminary and may not bear any resemblance to the actual recipient list (based on who shows up on site, who may already have a certain award, and so on), so never ever write the names or dates in beforehand; 2.) think of the most important object you might need to complete your duties, and then leave it at home an hour away (in my case, pens! nibs! and paintbrushes! -- thank heavens for Raven being there with the first two items, the most necessary two); 3.) if it's your first time, nerves will ensure that anything that can go wrong, will (knocking box of pre-made fragile seals onto floor and shattering fully half of them, blobbling ink spots, and so on); 4.) the longest and most complicated name will invariably be matched with the award scroll with the least amount of room to accommodate it (*grin*).

I spent a good chunk of the morning secluded in a room by myself, carefully penning in names in secret and not to be revealed until court, feeling like the keeper of mysterious and arcane knowledge. And then as additional prospective award recipients showed up on site, I'd bop back into the room and fill out another one. I was destined to not get a hot cup of coffee that day. I really just wish I'd had my own pens, and oh yeah, I wish I had remembered to bring my book of calligraphy hands with me! But I did okay; I was not able to match the hand on the arts award (Order of the Fern and Quill) but I think I did a good job with the hand I did use.

Forgetting my brushes meant I was without something to really occupy myself with for most of the day (between scurrying off to scribal duties), as I was going to paint charters all day. I did get to see and talk to people I hadn't seen in a while, so that was good too.

After the day's competitions, the Golden Bear Players staged what was essentially a dress rehearsal of the Elizabethan play that they'll be performing at the Known World Arts and Sciences gathering next weekend. It was pretty good. Then the royalty held court after tables were added for the feast. Much to my surprise I was given the first award, a "Baronial Brownie" (which is kind of a token of recognition that has a little bit of fun mixed into it -- having to do with bad puns, like brown sawtooth dags being called "brownie points"). This got snuck by me totally, was hand penned in by Raven and kept totally secret from me. I watched as the other awards were given out; the rest of the Baronial ones were, of course, no surprise to me but the Principality ones (and Kingdom ones that the Crown has granted the Prince and Princess the ability to give out) were. Court is always fun for me because it's so great to see deserving people given recognition for their achievements. Even when I know who's getting what, it's still fun because the anticipation of seeing the surprise on their faces is so very exciting.

Folks were getting restless for dinner and court was drawing to a close. Gifts were exchanged between the royals and also between the people who made the event happen and their helpers (as is customary). Near the end a fellow who was given an Award of Arms (the most basic of Kingdom level awards) earlier in that same court was brought back up because it was his birthday and we were to all sing for him. Except no one did. Someone cracked, "A room full of bards and no one's singing???" Then one bard piped up and sang (to the tune of "Tah rah rah Boom de ay"), "This is your BIRTHday song, it isn't VERy long." [silence] [laughter]

Oh, and just near the end (actually, the final award given out) they called me up there again. I blinked a few times and smiled and gathered my self together, thinking perhaps it was a Grail (Principality award given for recognition in arts, service, or martial skill (i.e. swords / armour / combat)). I made my way to the front of the room, bowing before the Prince and Princess, knelt before them and took their hands... and could see the paper that the herald held, could see through the paper from underneath (thanks to the ceiling lights), and recognized it to be the same thing that a friend had received a moment ago and that Andra had received in July, a Goutte de Sang for my work with the scribal arts (which to me is strange, since I don't think of it as work!). I was speechless. It was so unreal to me, but there I was, and the pendant that comes with the award was being placed over my head and around my shoulders, and I was handed a gorgeous scroll saying that yes, you really did do good work (and a lot of work) and now you're a Ladyship.

It was difficult to stay focused, driving home afterwards (since I didn't stay for the feast). I was sad only because Andra wasn't there to see me get it, since she had to work the café that day. I watched TV that night, MadTV and Saturday Night Live and a forensic science show on the Learning Channel or Discovery, then took a shower and went to bed at about 2am.

That night I dreamt that Bane and Meagan, Prince and Princess of the Summits, were hosting Saturday Night Live. I remember laughing uproariously at the sketches that they were in. Weird what the brain does at times; I was just happy that I hadn't dreamt about them being in the forensic science show!

It occurred to me moments ago that I was in my first semester senior year @ this time ten years ago. Wahh.

Happy Bloggeranniversary to me...

Received some kind of disturbing news yesterday. Seems a convicted sex offender has moved into the neighbourhood, one whose past victims have included "adult female strangers". Past convictions of rape and robbery. Now, I know they have to live somewhere, but it's going to make the pre-dawn walk to the bus stop a little more nerve-wrecking. (Time to get some pepper spray.)

Autumn is officially here. I had to fire up the furnace last night; it had just gotten too damn cold.

Every day the sunlight stays with us for less and less time. The more common occurrance of fog and rain and gloves at the bus stop serve to remind me that the days of shorts and driving with the windows all the way down + wind blasting through the cab of the truck are almost over. 2001 is almost over, summing up with cold, damp dreariness and driving home at 5pm in darkness.

I jaunted over to loobylu and found myself immersed in spring and planting and gardens and vegetable happiness. The weather is warming and the days are getting longer in the southern hemisphere and it always jars me a little bit to think that for an entire half of the planet, December is warm and sunny; the people who live there get to end their calendar year on an up note and not submerged in the depths of winter gloom. It makes me wonder how differently major holiday (i.e. Christmas) celebrations are when celebrated in what's seasonally summer, when families aren't subjected to sunlight-deprivation depression for a couple of months beforehand, given alcohol, and let loose on one another.

Don't get me wrong. I love autumn, the turning of the leaves... but there are times when I crazily wish for the ability to live in Australia from about September to March.

True story, paraphrased and condensed.

[unknown STREET MAN wanders into cafe, approaching WOMAN behind counter]

STREET MAN: You know, I was just talking to the owner of this place at the bus station, and he said that if I wanted a cup of coffee I could just come in and say so.

WOMAN: [raises eyebrow] Nice try.

STREET MAN: What do you mean?

WOMAN: I'm an owner, all the owners are women, and the only one who rides the bus in the afternoons is home sick and just sent me email. Nice try.

STREET MAN: [mumbles] Well, I had to try.

[STREET MAN wanders out again]

Survey says: Thank you for playing. Buh-bye.

sigh...

Oh cruel, cruel irony! laugh

No word yet, except that the phone interview one has already filled all positions. :P

I was going to go to Powell's tonight to see Nick Bantock, but it doesn't look likely to happen now since the person I was gonna ride in to Portland with injured her back. So... I'm a little bummed. That and today's the last day I can go to my gym, since my membership expires tomorrow (and I can't afford the rates now). No more hot tub three times a week. Ah well.

It has been an altogether strange morning; I came face to face with a raccoon in the darkness of this autumn morning as I was taking out the recycling. It took me a moment to realize that it was not actually a large cat moving along the top of the fence like an unwieldy tightrope walker. Its masked eyes caught mine and I stood there for several moments, frozen. I was fascinated at seeing it so close up, but thoughts of rabies and my cats leapt immediately to mind and I beat a hasty retreat indoors.

The fog is thick this Monday morning, though it was hard to tell until the sun came up. There was the barest of indications watching haloed headlights pass me by at the bus stop, but now it hangs grey-blue and heavy among the streetlights and the trees downtown. Somehow it seems appropriate.

They say now that Oregon is in a full-on recession. I am still stuck in that awful limbo, waiting for some word on the interview from last week, awaiting word one way or another on at least two other resumes. It's hard to bear in mind that it's not me, that it's just an outrageously high number of people looking for work. I am in survival mode and have been for some months now. It takes a devastating toll on the spirit.

Well, that was relatively painless. Let me know if anything isn't working, okay?

As I was uploading this, I realized that my first anniversary of using Blogger is on the 19th. Really, it's just a coincedence.

They've been playing old Frank Sinatra and other torch songs on the radio for most of this hour, and I have to say it's so very soothing. Would that I were curled up on the couch with a cup of Darjeeling, a cat on my lap, reading a book.

I've been happily dinking with a new layout and design as I alluded to before, but after getting to a finishing point, I sat back and decided it was too damn simple, one of a thousand ordinary layouts, too basic or plain for me to feel like I'm giving it my all, certainly not enough to express what I want to say. And so, the tweaking will continue, my friends, and you will have to stare at faux parchment that much longer. Working on it is difficult right now, since I'm doing the work on the more-powerful iBook, which at the moment I can only recharge twice a week at a friend's house (since my adapter has issues, as I mentioned).

Mercury is retrograde again, and yet, two interviews in one week (the second one, a pre-interview phone interview that kind of took me by surprise, since I sent the resumé close to 3 weeks ago). No word yet on either.

We have suddenly gone from summer to winter: air so cold you can see your breath, heaters have been dragged out of storage, blankets heaped upon the bed. I'm being a little stubborn in not turning the furnace on yet, don't want to face the fact that winter's just about here. I hate sudden weather changes. Unsurprisingly, I went to bed with a killer headache and woke up with same.

My stupid little yo-yo A/C adapter for my iBook has gone and shorted out. Bad, bad design. I'm hoping it can be repaired and made sturdier, because I sure as hell don't want to (and can't afford to) spend $70 on an electrical hockey puck. Feh.

Happy 61st, Mr. Lennon, wherever you are.

Interview went well, I think. Keeping my fingers crossed and my spirits up. I know I can do the job -- I just hope I was able to communicate that effectively.

Positive energy my way, 10:30 am Monday in the general vicinity of the Law School at the U of O. Thank you.

Obsessions are a funny thing. When I was in high school, I was such a Durannie. If those guys had actually been men I knew, I probably could have been brought up on stalking charges. ;) Every record I could find at the record shop and ordered some through mail order that they didn't. I could go on about it, but I won't because I already have.

Flash forward to senior year of college. I had a room in the lower floor of a house off campus that I shared (the house, not the room!) with a female friend and three male computer science majors. Take a wild guess what their favourite show was. Yup, TNG. I got sucked in during what must have been the end of the fourth season; how I had managed to miss it prior to this is no great mystery, since I had not previously been a fan of science fiction or TOS.

Man, I fell for this show, and I fell hard. Within a few months of catching repeats on the local Fox channel, I was writing fanfic and posting to a.s.c.*. My love of the show got me associated with -- heck, forming -- a few internet fan groups, which then led to many friendships (many of which I still have today), the effects of which still trickle down and affect my life in lots of ways. After TNG ended, my interest in the "franchise" waned considerably. The local tv stations don't show reruns anymore, and it'd been close to 3 years since I had seen an episode of TNG...

...until Monday. The marathon on TNN. It brought back a lot of really good memories, and in some ways, it was like watching episodes for the first time again, since it had been so long since I'd seen them.

I say "funny" because as we've watched this, I've sort of developed three discrete stages for experiencing these sorts of pop culture obsessions. There's the obsession itself, the complete and utter way it seems to permeate every aspect of your life. Then we move to "getting over the obsession / embarrassment that you ever took any part in the obsession". Finally, acceptance / nostalgia: revisiting the obsession through the filter of experience and wisdom, remembering the fun, and recognizing that there was indeed a basis for the obsession (even if you did go a little overboard).

Don't be surprised if you come here sometime soon and everything looks different. My reaction to the things in my life that I can't immediately change is to change the things I can, and I've got ideas pounding on the inside of my head, trying desperately to get out. The redesign bug has been biting people all over the place, and I'm all itchy now.

Sometimes the waiting is the hardest part. Now that that's over...

I never thought I'd be excited about seeing "Yesterday's Enterprise" again.

There are a lot of words flitting about in my head about everything that's going on in my world, but I can't seem to pin them down. I can't express really how hard everything has become; dealing with the distance between my family and myself in a very real and mortal way, dealing with wondering where this month's mortgage is coming from, dealing with residual pain from my fall on the bus (not to mention having to deal with straightening out the bill for the ER visit that I will refuse to pay for, since the incident was not in any way my fault). I am so tired of the uncertainty, so tired of this awful year 2001, and yet, cannot help but cherish every moment of every day. Imagine waking up, suddenly unable to move or speak, knowing you're dying and not being physically able to say those last words to the people you love. Suddenly sitting up in bed seems like a gift from God.

I know it will get better. It's the middle part that is so hard to bear.

Stop whatever you're doing.

Go and hug someone who loves you. You never know when you'll be able to again.

is this just not enough…?

i feel

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