Summertime

Ever notice how you don't have as much to say online when it's all nice and beautiful and summery outside?

I love a parade

Wait, what?

Zebras!

Flying Spaghetti Monster!

My mind...!

Fight Global Warming!?




Who knew? We celebrated the Solstice this year (I guess) by dragging Elaine down to the self-proclaimed Center of the Universe, aka the Fremont neighborhood in Seattle, to witness the legendary Solstice Parade. We got there way in advance and scored some front curb seats. It was pretty incredible. There was a lot of dancing and tribal drumming, costumes that ranged from the lavish to the bizarre, and the signature opening event: cyclists wearing nothing but body paint. I was highly entertained from start to finish. Elaine was a little freaked out. The coolest thing for me was that every float/exhibition/whatever-the-hell-that-thing-is had some sort of meaning as related to the Solstice celebration or some progressive cause, but there were no signs or symbols associated with the parade to clue you in to it. It was art, and it was lots of fun. Flaky as Fremont is, they really manage to pull off a great parade.

Since I've got a general rule against the posting of bosoms and weewees on my blog, I kept those images out. If you'd like to see more great images of the parade (and I recommend that you do), including an extensive gallery of the naked/painted cyclist parade, visit this page. In addition to gratuitous nudity, you'll be rewarded by pics of the completely awesome Soviet era statue of Lenin, situated at the heart of Fremont.

She's Two!

Deal with it!

This past weekend, we marked the event of Elaine’s second birthday with a bash for the ages (of one, two, and three). Jill took care of most of the prep with a very productive Target run. We had a small helium tank and balloons, cupcakes, a pizza lunch, and little gift bags for all of the kids which contained plastic dinosaurs, party favors, and bubbles. Some of the children blew bubbles, some poured bubble soap onto the lawn, and some just drank it straight from the bottle.

The party, with Elaine's big present in the background. Clockwise, from top: Big Molly, Madeleine, Susanna, Phillipe, Elaine (not pictured: Matthew, Olivia, little Molly


The festivities got underway a little early when Jill got locked in the bathroom at T minus ten minutes. We disassembled the doorknobs, but the mechanism had been installed from the edge of the door. Jill decided that we needed to call someone, leading to this exchange:

Me: I could kick the door in…?
Jill: Really?
Me: Sure!
Jill: (after a pause) OK, I’m in the bathtub.

Needless to say, I didn’t wait for her to change her mind. How often does one get to fulfill destructive fantasies like this? Amazingly, the door survived intact, but we’ll need to get the jamb reassembled. Anyways, this is a total word of warning to any crooks out there who think they can hide from the kicking foot of justice. I know you’re in there, and I’m a-comin’ in! (Please don’t have any weapons, because Jill won’t let me have a gun.)

Sunday night, I got to play Through the Ages: A Story of Civilization for the fourth time. This time, it was just Josh and I. Man, this is a really well-done game at 2, 3, or 4 players. I believe the third printing is underway right now, so I’m definitely going to be picking it up.

Elaine’s birthday fun times continued into Monday night, when we took her and her grandma (technically, grandma paid, but I drove) to Red Robin! Milkshakes, burgers, and balloons, oh my! When we got home, there were presents that had come by mail from various people. She scored some radical toddler clothing, a few small empty boxes (awesome idea), a bunch of crayons, and some books.

We got a lot of good video from the party, but not very many pictures. I’m looking into editing the videos on my MacBook (it has to be good for something) to post at a later time—perhaps on Picasa or Vimeo. Any suggestions for video hosting are welcome.

Deploy the grappling hook

A friend of a friend knows this guy who builds weird cars. Most of them are based loosely on the ship Serenity from the movie of the same name (and the series Firefly). I got to drive this one yesterday:



I was not able to see the looks on the faces of other drivers and pedestrians, as it took all of my concentration to keep it in the intended lane. Steering this vessel did approximate drifting through the vacuum of space: any direction on my part was largely suggestive. Also, it kept wanting to stall out at traffic signals. Also, it is a manual transmission vehicle, which is not a recommended feature in a hilly place like Seattle. It was fun, though.

Oh, and if you've never seen Firefly, do yourself a favor and rent the whole series (it is only one season long, as it was tragically cancelled), and then watch the movie. I can't recommend it enough.

In which you curse my name

I've been somewhat addicted to this quiz website, Sporcle. There are new quizzes every day, most of which take the form of lists. My favorite section has been the geography quizzes, found here, particularly the one in which you are called upon to name all the countries of the world. There is a map, and a little text box will appear over the country as you name it. It allows 15 minutes, which is plenty of time if you know how to spell the countries correctly. I have taken it every night over the past week. My scores, out of a possible 195, have been 185, 190, 192, 193, 193, 193, 194. The countries that I miss always vary, because the map is pretty small and has low resolution, and it gets covered up by your correct answers. It's a fun challenge.

I didn't start out with knowledge of 185 countries. There are also quizzes for the various regions of the world (5 continents plus Oceania) that I mastered before attempting the big enchilada. These are much easier to learn from, since the countries are colored in as you name them. Are YOU ready to possess this kind of raw knowledge? Do YOU want to be able to kick serious booty in a very specific subset of geography-related categories on Jeopardy? Then head on over to Sporcle and get hooked. Pro tip: Vatican City.

Of further internet-related interest, I've solved part of my productivity issues at work. I exclusively use Firefox, and there is an add-on called Leechblock (Tools menu -> Add Ons -> search for Leechblock). It will block your access to specified websites between certain hours. You can schedule in a lunch break, or tell it to permit 10 minutes every hour or two. There are a lot of options. You can have your access restricted by a password, but I don't trust myself with such an easy fix: I have it set up so that I can't access the settings during working hours. To avoid temptation, I eliminated Safari from my always-visible dock on my MacBook. It's only been two days, but I feel like I'm adjusting to life without Boardgamegeek, ESPN, Facebook, this blog, the Seattle Times, and Sporcle at work. When I do waste time, it is to flip through Science, Nature, or PNAS, which is slightly more germane to my work situation than the latest argument in the Religion, Sex, and Politics forum on the Geek (or even successfully naming the 195 recognized countries of the world).

Update, several hours later: I did it!!!

Mother's Day Weekend

I must say that it was a pretty awesome Mother’s Day weekend. On Saturday, we packed up Elaine and headed for Marymoor Park. This is a place that is outside Seattle, but is not the airport or a big box store like IKEA. Meaning that this is a relative first for us since we’ve been here. Saturday was Migratory Bird Day, and the folks at the park were holding birding events. Unfortunately, the events began at 2 pm, right in the middle of The Beautiful Time (Elaine’s nap time). So we went in the late morning, walked some trails, saw a few birds, had a picnic, and headed back home. I managed to not apply any sunscreen on myself or Elaine, so we both got a little pink. Later, we ordered pizza, and I popped the top on the first small bottle of my IPA. Lovely stuff. After Elaine went down for the night, Jill and I watched some bad television (season 2 of Heroes) and got to bed early.

Finding birds:


Sunday, I got up and got to work getting the house ready for a load of guests. We did Mother’s Day on Saturday so that I could devote Sunday to drinking and playing games. By 2 pm, several gallons of beer were on ice, the grill was going, and games were being set up. We hosted some friends in town (Josh, Jarrett, Miranda and Rachel), as well as some out of town guests, Jarred, Christine, Tim, Jessica, Jeremy, Josh, and Steven. Jarred, the guest of honor, is serving in Afghanistan as a contract officer in the Army, making sure supplies are allocated properly in the region. At least I think that’s what the job is. He’s a big fan of IPAs, which is what inspired me to make a batch. His crew was a fun bunch, and we look forward to having them back up again sometime.

People at the party:



The beer was very well received. One person said that he thought it might be the best IPA he’s ever had. Fresh beer can have that effect. I think next time, I’ll throw in an extra pound of malt, to raise the alcohol and sweetness levels. I drank it all day, and managed to avoid getting all sloppy like I do. I’m relaying Jill’s account here, as I’m no good judge of such things.

The dry-hopped fermenter, just before bottling:


I got to play Kingsburg, Ra, Imperial, and Carabande. The other table played Vegas Showdown and Pillars of the Earth. This was my second play of Imperial, and I learned a lot about using negotiation and alliances to get ahead in world domination. All in all, a fun weekend. Jill did a lot of behind-the-scenes work on Sunday, but she enjoyed her Mother’s Day on Saturday. She has expressed that she misses the real migration, back East. I’d have to agree--not much beats Magee Marsh for the migration.

Lookin' out my back door

Spring is well-underway here. I've had to cut the grass once; Rachel's garden is really taking off; the lilacs outside of Elaine's room are exploding; the plants that I thought were dead have fleshed out remarkably; the grapevines that I thought that I killed are producing buds; the cherry blossoms have come and gone, with the plums now on their heels. The camelia bush (which is now, more or less, a tree) is just about done with its annual show of beautiful white flowers, and, this year, has been the source of some additonal entertainment: it is hosting a crow's nest.



I was pretty surprised to see a gigantic crow decide to build a nest in this bush. My impression had always been that crows' nests were usually high and inaccessible, likely stemming from the nautical use of the term. This nest hardly provides any kind of lookout. One advantage, from the crow's perspective, is that the top of the bush is fairly open, and a power line runs directly above it. Thus the crow can hang out on the line and keep an eye out on the babies and the general area. I was also surprised at my own willingness to suffer the use of my property for the rearing of these godforsaken devilspawn. My curiosity to see and hear the baby devilspawn apparently outweighed the blackness that I hold in my heart. Or perhaps I'm just getting soft.

I didn't always hate the crows. The faithful reader will recall the moment when I became convinced of their diabolical origins and hateful intent. I had my reasons. Still, I wonder if I might have been mistaken--if these creatures may have the capacity to stir something good in this heart of mine.

I found my answer last week. I was home sick (and still am) and I heard the young crows calling for food. A large black streak threaded into the bush to increased clamor, and I found myself excitedly calling to Jill and Elaine to listen. Mama Crow flew out again, and soon returned with more food. I started thinking about getting to see the fledglings. Man encounters hate and embraces it, then his world changes and he releases it again. It's an old story. But it's never the ending.

There is a neighborhood cat who patrols the alley behind my house. I glanced out the window this weekend to see it seated below the bush, looking intently up, tail swishing. The faithful reader will recall that I am not a big fan of cats, mewling, greedy little bird-murdering panhandlers that they are. I was about to head for the back door to send it running when I realized that there were three large crows on the power line, daring the cat to make a move. By the time I got downstairs to the back door, the cat was gone and the crows were in the air, down the alley, harrying the feline back to its yard.

Then, yesterday, I looked out and saw the cat in the tree with no crows in sight. I hurried outside and lobbed a rock in its direction. Part of me would probably get some satisfaction out of beaning the beast broadside with a good thump, but the larger part of me would regret it. So it was just a near miss that bounced once and sent the cat scurrying. I scared it off again from the window last evening.

So, this is what I've come to be -- a protector of crows. It remains to be seen whether my heart can change enough to feel affection for cats again, but this tale suggests that anything is possible if you just give love a chance.


(from glitterpissing.blogspot.com)

"We fight for money and an indefinable pride."

I just finished the first 3 books of the Black Company series by Glen Cook (single volume, The Chronicles of the Black Company). Mustafa made me buy it. Literally. On the last day of Kathy and Mustafa's visit last month, we had breakfast at IHOP and then poked around in a Barnes and Noble. I was watching Elaine in the kids' section (she had a blast) while everyone else did some shopping. Mustafa placed this book in my hands and told me that I have to read it.

The book is told from first person perspective. The voice is Croaker, an ironic name for the physician/soldier of the legendary Black Company, a highly disciplined band of mercenaries that could trace their existence back for many centuries through their Annals. Croaker is also the Company Annalist, which is why we experience the story through his eyes. The secret to the Company's success is a combination of planning and sorcery. Three of the Company members are skilled spellcasters. The Company are not the Good Guys. They merely fulfill the obligation of their hire. Protection. Warfare. Assassination. The Company exists to ensure the further existence of the Company.

The main narrative revolves around how the Black Company, and specifically Croaker, become involved in a cyclical prophecy. Long ago, the world was under the rule of a very powerful sorcerer, the Dominator. (I should stop here to point out that all of the sorcerers have ridiculous pseudonyms; to declare a sorcerer's true name deprives him/her of all of their power.) Apparently, the Domination was a bad time. The Dominator was married to the Lady, who was nearly as powerful as he. The end of the Domination came when the White Rose, a girl, defeated the Dominator and the Lady and interred them among multiple spells and safeguards in the Barrowlands. They were too powerful to kill.

Later, a too-curious wizard accidentally let the Lady out of her prison. She immediately began a push for control of all of the lands. She ends up hiring the Black Company as her personal bodyguard. She has the ability to take powerful sorcerers and make them her subjects, more powerful than they would ever have been alone. These Taken are the boogeymen of the story, alternately advancing and twisting the plot as you try to figure out where their individual loyalties lie. The Lady wants no part of her husband's resurrection, and the Dominator's touch and allure was never fully eradicated. The crisis comes as a comet appears in the sky, heralding the birth of the next White Rose, meaning that the Dominator's time of imprisonment is drawing short.

That's the basic plot explored by the first 3 books. I liked the concept, and enjoyed all of the great wizard battles and military planning. The whole thing kept reminding me of Jordan's The Wheel of Time series, except THIS ONLY TOOK THREE VOLUMES. The story was of a similar scope and theme, without all of the tiresome descriptive passages and repetition. In fact, these books provided all of the things that I liked about The Wheel of Time and excluded all of the things that I disliked.

The third book was not the end of the stories of the Black Company, but I'm assuming that they're the end of Croaker's involvement. I liked the story and I was satisfied enough with where it ended up that I'm not likely to pick up any more of these. It was a fun read, and I'd recommend it to any fantasy aficionados.

Now here's some pictures of us at the bookstore. (Smooth, eh?)

One foot in the door

Very much against my will, I am starting to enjoy more beers on the hoppy side of the fence. Perhaps it's this misty green vale of mystery where I reside that is working this insidious magic upon my taste buds. Perhaps I was just ready. I still stand by my previous jeremiads about the corrupting nature of hop-lust, but I've come to conclude that most people are just doing it wrong. It's not how many pounds of fragrant green flowers you pack into your brew, it's how you pack them that counts.

My biggest complaint has always been that most IPAs are like chewing grass. Too green, too bitter, too laden with what tastes like pine tar. Occasionally, I encounter a lovely IPA. I've started to notice what I like: citrusy, floral aroma, a bit of sweetness and full-bodied nature, high alcohol content (7%+) and not a whole lot of bitterness. You can tell that the beer was made using a lot of hops, but you don't feel like you're currently trying to eat them. After some research, I became confident that I could pull this off, and so I made my first IPA today. In honor of a US soldier and homebrewer (and game player) who is coming home for a week in May, and who will probably open the first growler of the brew, I'm calling it Afghan Pale Ale.

Hops are added to the brew at two points. Just as the boil begins, the bittering hops go in. Hops are flowers that contain bitter resins that do not easily dissolve in water, so it takes a long boil to extract them. They also contain very aromatic compounds that are easily dissolved in water. These are destroyed in a long boil. Thus, flavor or aroma hops are added at the end of the boil. For most of my beers, I use a very small amount of hops at the end, and typically boil for 5 minutes, and leave them in while I'm cooling the wort.

For this beer, I used almost as many ounces of aroma hops as for bittering, but I used very aromatic, citrusy hops (Amarillo and Centennial). Also, I put them in a mesh bag and only boiled them for 1 minute before removing them. I think that this will give me the character that I seek without contributing any more of the green/bitter flavor to the beer. The 7.5 lbs of malt extract and 1.5 lbs of cracked grain should help to balance out the extra hop character, and give a nice kick to the beer.

I'm looking forward to this one. It smells pretty.
*************************************************************************

Also wanted to add, for those who follow along, that Jim and Sonja have begun posting on their boat blog again. The ice must be cracking in the harbor up there. (link on sidebar)

Pigs in Space

My gaming has been pretty sporadic since the annual Christmastime extravaganza, but I’ve had some pretty fun times over the past few weeks. Notably, I’ve been playing Battlestations somewhat more regularly. Battlestations is a sort of boardgame/role playing game hybrid. You create a character to control, and you can use that character on subsequent plays. There is a game master (GM) who takes you through each mission, keeping information hidden and doing her level best to confound and destroy the crew. Your character gains experience and money at the successful completion of each mission, and can gain levels. Subsequent missions are then tailored to the enhanced abilities of the crew.

A typical crew in a beginning ship consists of a pilot, a marine, a scientist, and an engineer. Each profession has enhanced abilities and gear according to the needs of their position. For example, the engineer is responsible for generating power in the ship’s engines, and allocating that power to shields, helm (piloting actions), and guns. The engineer has a bonus, then when he rolls for a success at generating power, or undertaking repairs. The floor plan of each ship is assembled, and the character standups are placed in their start positions (at battle stations). Thus, a character must move throughout the ship in order to accomplish their tasks. You can’t fire a missile if there isn’t anyone manning the missile bay, for example.

Separate from the ship’s floorplan, there is a map of the region of space where the action occurs. Generally, there’s a planet placed as a reference point, then the crew’s ship, and then any other details, such as debris, asteroids, or enemy ships. For the missions that we’ve attempted, the early part of the game is largely maneuvering and firing. Later, there may be a boarding action, either by the heroes or the enemy.

This game starts off kind of slow and thoughtful, as the players try to come up with the best strategy to approach the mission. The writers do a great job of coming up with interesting puzzles for the players to solve. In one mission, the enemy ship had an inversion field that turned successful rolls into failures, and they could switch it on and off. We made the mistake of boarding their ship—a mistake because the two boarding characters were specialized for this sort of thing, and the enemy characters were horrible at combat. Thus, they cut us to shreds while we missed badly.

It’s difficult to describe the allure of the game, so here’s a sample session report of our last go-round. We had tried, unsuccessfully, two previous missions as pirates, but our puny Level 1 characters didn’t have much of a chance. So we decided to join the Federation and do some contract work. After gaining some levels and upgrading our ship, we plan to return to a life of plunder. This was our first such mission:

A federation spy was flying way undercover with a pirate syndicate. The Federation received intel that the spy’s position had been compromised. We needed to perform an extraction before the enemy ship reached its headquarters. Simple, eh? Yeah, right.

We set a course orbiting a seemingly deserted planet, while sending out a distress call. Sure enough, the brigands warped into our sector. They immediately sent a message demanding our unconditional surrender, and fired a lucky cannon shot to make their point. This was somewhat more heat that we had expected so soon. They lobbed a missile to try to soften us up some more, but we were able to electronically scramble it (ECM) and then harmlessly destroy it. By this time, we were on the dark side of the planet, and breathing hard. We realized that our slow speed was making us a sitting duck, so we prepared to accelerate as soon as we had completed this orbit.

In the meantime, we had received communications from the enemy ship, via the secret agent. He sent along a schematic of the enemy vessel and info about the crew. He also managed to trash their teleporter and damage other modules. As we accelerated away from the planet (lobbing a missile of our own) we received a final communiqué. He was jumping ship. On the next turn, six spacesuits were simultaneously ejected from the craft. Only one of them had a passenger. As we exchanged fire with the pirates, our scientist probed the suits for signs of life. Finally, we identified the correct suit and set a looping course to intercept.

The rule for picking up a space walker is that the ship must have a speed of zero and occupy the same hex. The slower you go, the easier you are to hit. So we were getting pummeled by the other ship as we attempted this maneuver. But we were also giving as good as we got. It was their cannons that caused most of our distress, since our scientist was a specialist at remotely detonating enemy missiles. But then, as we were two hexes away from our quarry, the scientist rolled a successful ECM against a missile. The GM informed us that the missile failed to explode.

A few beats later, comprehension dawned on the faces of the crew. It was a boarding missile, which is a piloted, two-person vessel. It crashed through an engine room, and an enemy marine and engineer emerged. The engineer immediately began hacking into our ship’s systems, but quickly became a smoldering pile of chitin. Oh, wait…I forgot to mention the races.

My character, and the ship’s pilot, are both Tentacs. This is a race of highly tentacled beings who have a decent move rate, and great endurance, but cannot wear armor. The ship’s engineer is of a fungoid race known as Whistlers. His movement is enhanced by the ability to “puff”, or soar a short distance as part of his movement. The ship’s scientist is a Zoallian, which are roach-like creatures that have a natural armor bonus. The invading pirates were Zoallians. There are also silicoid creatures, cat-like creatures, and, of course, humans.

The invading roach backed away from our defense squad, destroying the engine compartment as he did. When a module (such as an engine) is badly damaged, or slagged, there is a movement penalty within the module. There is also a penalty to all skill rolls while in the module. Our ship is shaped like a donut, so we were faced with the choice of either following the marine through a path of destruction or doubling around to cut him off. We went with plan B.

Meanwhile, the success of the mission was in jeopardy. We continued to slow to zero while taking shots from the enemy ship. Finally, we were at zero and sitting on the same hex as the double agent. The enemy ship had overtaken us and was on the same hex, as well. Why they didn’t attempt to ram us, I don’t know. We had two missiles trailing the ship, and their scientist couldn’t keep both of them off, so there was a strike. The GM performed a hull check, and failed badly. The enemy ship exploded right over our heads.

Our mission was to safely return the agent. Failing to do so would be, well, failure. Conditions for an Overwhelming victory involved killing all of the enemy and destroying their ship, as well. The GM rolled for damage…6d6. The result was 14. The spy survived, but was quite unconscious. Our ship took damage, and we did a hull check. It failed. However, each player has a certain number of Luck points at the start of each mission, each of which allows a reroll of one die. We survived on luck. There was only the pesky marine to deal with.

That little bastard had managed to slag all three of our engines. With no engine power, we couldn’t pick up the spy. Our engineer went into action, repairing the nearest engine and pumping for power. We got enough to scoop up the spy, and our scientist set about healing him. Meanwhile, the pilot and I were bearing down on the roach. I hit him once, but then my dice got all crappy on me. So I did my duty and blocked the way into the only operating engine room and let him rip me up. The pilot did the same, and so we kept him occupied for a few turns. We had the advantage of being in an operational module while he was backed into a slagged module.

Eventually, the spy had recovered enough to come running, with the scientist and his MediKit in tow. The spy had a much nicer weapon than any of us…the same weapon that the roach was using to fire indiscriminately into the wall of our ship. I guess he'd figured out what that big explosion was. The spy roasted him, and we all collapsed in relief. Well, all except me and the pilot, who were already sprawled on the floor with life-threatening injuries.

Upon our glorious return, we received a bunch of credits, serious experience that we used to level up, and we went shopping. We each requisitioned new modules for the ship, and then bought items that would likely help out our respective professions. I got a scope that I can put on the particle rifle that I found on the marine roach. I also got a few different types of grenades and satchel charges. Safe to say, I can’t wait to try out my shiny, new tools of destruction!

Grab bag

Life and hobby updates:
-I'm finally recovering from The Cold of 2009.
-I discovered a new precious beer that is delicious and wonderful. I forget the name. Duchess Borgnone or some such. Tartness at first that quickly warms to an almost cider-like sweetness, thanks to those crazy Belgian yeast.
-The Kathy and Mustafa visit was a whole big load of fun. We had a game day at Josh and Megan's place, complete with waffles and mimosas. Double Awesome.
-Played Imperial at said game day. Double Awesome. It is a non-intuitive economic game with a military component. I lived, I died, I had very vocal moments of despair and tragedy, I lived again, I had fun. Mustafa won on his last turn of the game. That never happens!
-Elaine played at Madeleine's house today. I picked her up, and noticed that she was picking at her shoe in her car seat. I reached back and grabbed her shoe, "ROWRRRR!!!", and my thumb sank into a fresh clump of dog poo. Not Awesome.
-It's cold as the wastes of Heck here. Arctic winds are a-blowing through our little convergence zone. It's supposed to die out soon, and 50 degree weather will return. I'm thinking that I might be able to get out for a run this week. Finally!
-I'm kinda bummed that we don't have anyone on the immediate schedule for visitation and hanging out. I guess we have June to look forward to, possibly.

And now, back to my yummy beer.

Mustafa and Kathy are here

So that's pretty cool. After the marathon house cleaning last night, an attempt to debulk the house of cat hair to keep Kathy's considerable cat allergies at chair-and-whip length, I had my first beer in over a week and then failed to fall asleep. Jill went to pick them up at the airport around 12:30 last night, and I was still up when they got home, and remained so until after 2. I woke at 6 as usual, so today should be interesting.

Follow up

So I went back to the doctor on Tuesday. She prescribed a Z-pak, which is a broad spectrum antibiotic. She also told me that amoxicillin is basically a placebo at this point, so I coughed for an extra week for no reason. I'm also on Flonase, which is a corticosteroid that counteracts the effects of seasonal allergies. This is mostly to open up my sinuses. I think that we're on the right path. I get that there are bacterial strains that are becoming resistant to the best stuff we have, and so doctors need to be careful about handing out Z-paks, but I was pretty f-ing patient through this process and I'm a little annoyed that someone would be willing to play games with me after six weeks of coughing. Grrrrr.

Under the weather

Jill had her most recent operation on Jan. 16. While I was passing the time in the waiting room, I began to get a bit of scratchiness in my throat. I had developed a runny nose by that evening, and the whole mess quickly moved to my chest within two days. Or so I thought. I had what I thought was bronchitis. Most bronchitis is viral, so I waited it out for a few weeks. These weeks, spent largely at work or at the hospital (Jill came home too soon and had to go back for a few more days), were filled with the sound of my rattly lungs and very productive cough. Three weeks after contracting this "ick", I saw a doctor. She said that my lungs were clear, and diagnosed me with rhinovirus, the common cold. She said that it would gradually get better over the next two weeks on its own.

Three weeks later, I had had it (along with my coworkers and friends). The cough had gotten only marginally better, and I was spiking 100-102F fevers on consecutive nights. I went back in and was diagnosed with rhinosinusitis. Basically, my nasal passages were so swollen that everything was going down the back side, causing me to cough. I got high dose amoxicillin, an inhaler, and was advised to take Sudafed. That was Wednesday. I stayed home most of Wednesday and all of Thursday. I went to work Friday, but stayed mostly off my feet. There was somewhat less coughing yesterday, but today feels like a week ago. Perhaps I shouldn't have taken E to the zoo this morning.

Anyway, blah. This has sapped a lot of my energy. I hope that the RN who saw me gambled correctly on amoxicillin. I'm going to be pissed if I have to go back in for a Z-Pak, which is what I expected.

And now....Pictures!!!

The ubiquitous "Uh oh!"


Right before heading out to the zoo



No caption necessary

Nerding it up in nerd town

Yes, this is part 2 of my graphic novel thingy, in which I talk about The Sandman.

Death. Destruction. Despair. Destiny. Delight. Delirium.

Dream.

Neil Gaiman was tapped to write a series of stories in this graphic format based on an old DC character, The Sandman. He came up with an epic tale of a far more powerful creature: Morpheus, Oneiros, Dream of the Endless. The Endless predate the fleeting gods and myths of humanity. They are family, with all of the love, support, and betrayal of any family, but their extremely long view of things make some of their actions seem strange.

This is a series of ten graphic novels, plus some non-canonical material. The set of ten tells an ultimately cohesive story, but seems quite fractured as you’re reading it. Each book has it’s own identity; partly due to the necessities of the book form, and partly because of the changing artists involved in the project. While a few of the books tell a relatively linear story from start to finish, others tell a series of seemingly unrelated stories. I found it to be frustrating early in the series (Dream Country), as Gaiman would introduce you to a group of characters who were having some sort of conflict, only to have it resolved by the deus ex machina appearance of the Sandman. As it turns out, most of those little stories are quite relevant to the final epic scene, which resolves over the course of the last 3 books.

The central conflict is an existential one for the main character, Dream. An Endless being is many things, but humble is not one of them. Dream is vain, petulant, haughty, and distant, but also compassionate, responsible, and loyal. You can tell a lot about a person by the company he keeps, and Dream is surrounded by many fantastic characters who provide a warmth to temper his cold demeanor. Over the course of the story, we see Dream at different points in human history, coming to grips with his relationship with humans. He depends upon us to help him travel and to build his kingdom, but he has the attitude of a benevolent despot. Over time, he develops relationships with some humans, and he begins to recognize that he is changing. This is a problem, since Dream is the ultimate idealist. He has set his own rules since the stars were born. He fights this change, and that’s when all the trouble starts…

The entire series is stunningly well done. As Peter Straub gushes in the liner notes of one of the volumes, “If this isn’t literature, I don’t know what is”. As for the artwork…the art is equal to the story. These are beautiful books, and I look forward to revisiting them often.

One final note: read these near a computer, because you’ll be needing to access Wikipedia to brush up on your Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Norse mythology, as well as your Shakespeare and Chaucer. And perhaps a little on the faerie folk.

Morpheus needs a hug

Light reading

Back in November and December, Rachel hooked me up with a number of graphic novels from her collection. This is an incomplete list of what I read:

Watchmen by Alan Moore
Coming soon to theaters near you, this tale of "costumed vigilantes" is a dark mirror to the arc of history taken by the Western world since WWII. These heroes, variously employing gadgetry, acrobatic agility, above-average intelligence, and excellent hand-to-hand fighting skills, gained world-wide popularity and notoriety in the 40s and 50s. This story, set in the 80s, tells of the decline of this group from their glory days, as they went from heroes to pariahs, although the main action is about how they are being methodically being picked off by an unknown foe. It's a fascinating story with compelling (if mostly unlikeable) characters. The ending was very satisfying.

V for Vendetta by Alan Moore
Drawing heavily on the dystopic vision of George Orwell, this is set in England in the years following a fairly widespread nuclear exchange in Europe. England escaped relatively intact, but a fascist regime of necessity took control, restoring order to a society in flux. After enjoying several years of unimpeded security, the regime finds itself under attack by a very clever and destructive foe. Much of this superbly drawn novel is told through the eyes of a young woman who is taken in by "V", and who experiences quite a wild ride as she gets to know him. This book, more than any of the others in this post, made me see the real value of this medium. "V" wears a frozen mask throughout the novel, but the artist was nonetheless able to show a variety of emotions with a simple cock of the head or other change of angle. You couldn't tell that visual story in a standard novel, and you don't often have time to pause and reflect on an image in a movie. This was extremely cool, and you should read it.

Batman: Year One by Frank Miller
Batman: The Long Halloween by Jeph Loeb
Batman: The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller
Rachel is really into Batman comics. These three stories provide compelling reasons. Year One is a reimagining of the origins of Batman, and the movie Batman Begins draws heavily from it. The artwork is a muddle of contrasts, with very little in the way of bright colors. Bruce Wayne is driven by a vision of rescuing his city from corruption and fear, and he joins forces with an even braver soul on the police force. The Long Halloween follows Batman over the course of a year in which the main mob family in Gotham experiences some high level assassinations, which ratchet up the tension in the city. There is a breakout at Arkham Asylum, where several classic Batman foes are released to wreak havoc on the city. I was a bit disappointed with that aspect, as Batman didn't seem to really struggle with these characters. I think that there may have been too much going on for me to get the main point, so I should probably re-read this one. The best one, however, was The Dark Knight Returns. This is essential reading. Batman has been retired for 10 years, and he's in his 40s. Circumstances force him to squeeze back into his costume again, perhaps for his swan song. This is a harsh, brutal story. There are so many great elements that interlock beautifully: the yin/yang relationship between Batman and the Joker, the unlikely showdown with a very surprising foe, and the very creepy relationship between Batman and a young protege who styles himself after Robin. Frank Miller gets this character.

I also read the 10-volume Sandman series, but that will have to comprise its own post.

Lest I forget

Seeing as some of my favorite people are Edinburgh residents, who are undoubtedly enjoying that most sublime of winter fare, the noble haggis, I steal this bit of doggerel from Wikipedia, for you, my clause-ridden reader:

Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat and we can eat,
Sae the Lord be thankit.

Despite all of my bitching over the past few months, I'm a really lucky guy. I hope you all have a good day (hell, have a good COUPLE of days). Lords notwithstanding.

A fondly-remembered tale of a certain visitor to Scotland and his kilty adventures at a barn dance reminds me to announce, with no little glee, that Mustafa and Kathy from Ann Arbor are planning to stop by our soggy abode for a few days en route to Hawaii. Now I can show all of my gaming buddies here what a true manipulator is like at the table. We're really excited about this.

Is it ten fingers, or eight and two thumbs?

Here I sit in the O.R. waiting room with a bunch of other worried people. Jill went on a clear liquid diet beginning yesterday morning, and did a bowel prep last night. This is not a glamorous sequence of events. She was told that she would be the first surgery of the day today. However, while this was technically correct, it turns out that her surgeon had a previous engagement at a different hospital. This engagement turned into an emergency, which pushed back Jill's operation. And so and thus it was that Jill was finally wheeled back for preoperative preparations at 2 PM today. Jill, needless to say, was pretty freaking hungry at this point. We've been here since 9:30 AM.

There's not really a point to this post. I'm just really bored, and want to complain about something. Now, here's a picture of Jill with a pink, fuzzy hat on her head. Please enjoy.



UPDATE: 20 minutes after posting this, the nurse called the waiting room and told me that Jill had just begun her surgery, and that I could expect to wait 2-4 hours before hearing anything else. She was initially taken back about 1.5 hours ago. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

UPDATE: Aaaaand, she's done. Not bad--it took them 3 hours to finish up. She had no evidence of gross disease, and they were able to resect her colon at the previous site of repair. All in all, the best case scenario. I am tired and hungry, but also delighted. She's waking up now, and I'll get to see her in an hour...

Christmas 2008 in Pictures

Man, I need to clean up around here. The same tired songs have been on that list for months, the same molding picture has been occupying the prime spot up there since October, and I don’t even go to many of those “links” I’ve posted anymore. I would call it a resolution, but my resolution has been to be more productive at work, which is why this is being posted from my desk at work.

Anyhoo, I do have some planned “articles” for the near future, but let’s just keep it simple for now: pictures from Christmas and from my super-sweet 40th galaganza.

Elaine moves up on the totem pole


I prepare to get blurry on my birthday


Sweeeeet!


Ripping paper=fun