An Infinite Number of Monkeys

I finally ponied up and hired me a Classics scholar (PhD punks!) to translate the family motto for me. I've only been talking about doing this for years. Thanks to Fiverr.com by the way for making this happen. For the first time ever, my icon text and my impressive Latin translation:

Dentes acutos atque angustam solvendorum laborum capacitatem.

My first counselling appointment has a price tag of $250 more or less.
I'm going to have to demand that in the first month they assure me I'll stop making bad relationship choices and am afraid of nothing, rational or irrational. After that we can dig in and really start to work.

Seattle/Portland/San Francisco folks, help me with a... discussion I had with a friend. Do any of these activities sound interesting? Don't check the ticky box unless you would realistically be motivated to leave the house to do them--lord knows there are plenty of times when I've said "That sounds like fun!" and then never left the couch because it was too much trouble. Facebookies, you can't do the poll if you don't have an account so I guess leave a comment.

My Migraine: Two Stars.
In a word, disappointing. Was able to minimize most effects by curling up in a dark room under a few blankets and trading out ice packs on the back of my neck all night. Swirly star-like things behind my eyelids all the same color, also a boring glowy white. Occasionally slept, with pleasant dreams providing brief release. Nausea which promised vomiting later failed to deliver even with added vertigo effects. Heavily advertised 'icepick through the eyeball' effect underwhelming. Over all, inconvenience instead of promoted misery cruise through shark infested waters. Would not buy again.

The Dalek Girl had transcended that spark of humanity left from her
Skarovian heritage and become an icon. When I saw her on the convention
floor, I had of course left my phone in the hotel room charging. We vaguely
suggested that we'd try to bump into each other when I could properly
capture her glory. She was cute as all hell--reminded me of Dawn--and had a
fantastic outfit full of electric lights and crinoline.

I had a fantastic hour of Tai Chi (along with some pointers at a dojo where
I might get more) and then scarpered up to floor 12 to get the phone.
Mostly hung around Geek Prom/Costume Contest because that seemed like a
logical point to pass her. But no. In fact, my guy with the Costume Contest
wept tears at the lack of her. Perhaps we both did--no one will know.

After the contest had begun, general concensus was that she was hitting the
room parties. I'd already determined that waiting for the lift was either
pointless or just a good way to spend half an hour standing in a lobby
hoping something would eventually show up. So I was up and down the stairs
between 1 and 6, poking my head into open doors, and asking anybody who
would stand still in a place that wasn't amazingly noisy "Have you seen the
Dalek Girl?"

Many of them had, often 'just five minutes ago'. This had become more than just taking pictures of pretty girls. This was now a quest, and just popping off to the bar for a drink and calling it a night was not an option.

I spent far too much of the next two hours 'just five minutes' behind her.
She was a wily quarry, a member of a superior race. I had to start forming
an SMS network, and that was where she finally fell--room 501, showing off
her amazing costume. Graciously, she allowed me a memento (aside from the
amazing state of my calves from those stairs, of course) before flitting
off into the night, blue light flashing a promise that she would EX TER MI
NATE.




(She's so saucy!)

EDIT Thank yous to Google Docs for WTFEver they did here.
It was super helpful. And it totally didn't piss me off.

Thank you all for the support last night.

I'd gotten a one day job and was out of the house from eight until seven, and wanted to come home and sit in the pool and soak. Until I had jumped through all the hoops and actually gotten there. Then it wasn't what I wanted. So I grabbed my copy of Stone's Throe, which I'd recently started reading and was enjoying. Until then. So I thought fine, I'll *make* some words and sat down with a couple of projects I'm in the middle of. And stared at them blankly. So I threw myself into bed (and did not miss so there's my grace note for the day) to watch Devil Wears Prada which came to me with high marks. That lasted about fifteen minutes when I realized I actively didn't care and should stop watching before my mood spoiled the whole thing. Thought I'd catch up on Facebook. And as fascinating as you all are, I didn't want that either. And all through this not enjoying things I expect to enjoy, it was not increasing my calm.

Good news on the cat front, though. Once I'm asleep my room is okay. One cat sits in the bathroom door staring at the bathroom, the other sits in my computer chair.

Quick jaunt up to Chicago for the weekend. Most of the trappings were Just Fine. Repeatedly unintentionally broke my rule of "If you're going to blow your fats quota, make sure they're awesome fats".

But I got to spend time with people I love and miss dearly, and since that was the primary purpose of the visit, all is well.

And I'm probably going to nap for a few days now, and not go near a car.

So the NRA has decided they don't want functional guns at their convention, despite the danger of an outlaw bad guy having a gun and shooting the place up.

So the NRA maintains records of their members, thus effectively making a list of people who own guns and are more likely to be politically active about it.

Hmmmmm

EDIT: functional firearms are forbidden on the arena floor where big events are taking place, outside of that only the dealers are required to neuter their guns.
However, they are still collecting names and making a list of known firearm users.

"You know when we said it'd take about an hour to finish your application, after we helpfully pre-filled the wrong information from the resume we demanded you submit so that you could correct our form with all the information that we could have had from your resume *or* from your filling out our form? Well here's a half hour survey. It's mandatory. We're going to score it. You're not allowed to know how or why, and we don't have to tell you anything about it. Are you seriously still considering working here after the level of jerking around we've given you BEFORE YOU EVEN GET AN INTERVIEW? Why would we hire somebody that stupid?"

"PS: This 'survey' is a psycheval and we're going to ask you slanted questions where none of the answers we give are answers to the questions that would reflect your thoughts accurately. Haven't you quit yet? It's no wonder we won't hire you."

Note: I did not say that XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX had anything to do with this evening's Clockwork Orange.

Last night I dreamt I went to Corvallis again.

I don't know why, the past couple of days, I've had evidence that I dream. I have to assume it has something to do with the convention. Maybe the constant hotel noise, or something about the social interaction, being in bed with another person, the smell of bacon in the morning... I don't know. All I know is that I'm glad they weren't the dreams I *was* getting before they stopped completely.