Category: general

Brooke just about had a heart attack when I told her I was listening to Pink Floyd. Apparently, this is amazing. Does this surprise you? What other things about me surprise you? I’m intrigued by this, because I don’t really find myself all that fascinating. (Okay, fine, I do find myself fascinating, but I don’t see how I am all that fascinating to others.)

So I’m finally getting caught up on Language Log. Yes, that’s right, I am currently reading the first of 99 posts queued up in my RSS reader. This particular post is from February 24 and concerns the placement of connective adverbs.

To spotlight just how much of a geek I am, I give you the following:

Although Hardy must have been among the authors who formed William Strunk’s sense of English prose style, there is no evidence in Hardy’s works, treated as a whole, to support Strunk’s notorious anxiety about initial placement of however.

However, if we inspect the beginning and end of Hardy’s career separately, a slightly different pattern emerges.

Do you see what he did there?! He started the sentence with “however”, after talking about the stigma against starting a sentence with “however”! OMG!!!!

This made me laugh out loud. So, yes…I am a total dork. (A total dork who adores Mark Liberman.)

Brooke linked me to this piece on Terri Shiavo. I thought it well worth sharing.

It seems the majority of Eric Burns’ recent posts have been of the “I don’t have anything for you today” meme (often with the added information of “I’m sick” or “I’m tired”). Meanwhile, we get odd blatherings from his new co-conspirator, Wednesday White, that are random and only tenuously related to “snarking”. Her entries read more like something that ought to be on a personal blog than “webcomic criticism”. (The fact that I don’t really care for her writing doesn’t help, I suppose.)

It makes me feel like Eric brought Wednesday on board because he doesn’t have the drive to snark anymore. He wanted her to pick up the slack because he knew there would be slack. He’s being pulled in eleventy different ways, and the more enticing ways are getting the majority of his attention. Right now, it would seem that he’s most enthralled with his new webcomic, Gossamer Commons (which, I’m sad to say, does not intrigue me…the pacing of the intro did not make me want to keep reading, and I unfortunately am not a fan of the art style).

So I wonder if this is it for me and Eric Burns. Maybe he will calm down after a few weeks–his comic did just launch, after all–and things will go back to “normal”. But maybe he’s chosen (in his heart, where it counts for an artist) to move on…in which case, I will be sorry to see Websnark go. I’ve never posted over there, but I’ve always enjoyed reading.

Well, I thought I’d do a little more work on shifting my template over, but all I’ve really been doing is laying out the design for the sidebar boxes in a Word doc. Not that that’s inconsequential, but it would be nice if I had gotten something more high profile done, like the footer, or the archive pages, or whatnot. Oh well.

I keep wanting to eat, and I’m not getting anything accomplished, so what I think I’ll do is brush my teeth, get changed for bed, make lunches for tomorrow, and then read some Thomas Covenant until I feel sleepy. The first day of my last two weeks at my soon-to-be former job is tomorrow! (Speaking of which, in a joint celebration of that and of my bone marrow birthday [which was Friday], I went out to dinner at Mikoto with Sean, Mari, Brooke, and Chris last night. Yuuuuuum. I had so much foodfun. ;D)

Cory Doctorow linked today to the most hysterical thing. Holy crap, I love this.

The headlining piece, the theme from Ghostbusters, is pure gold.

• Things I ain’t afraid of:
  • no ghost
• Strange things in the neighbourhood (partial list):
  • seeing things running through head
  • invisible man sleeping in bed
• Things that make me feel good:
  • bustin’
• Who you gonna call:
  • Ghostbusters
  • I can’t hear you
  • Louder

However, I about died when I read the one for We Will Rock You:

• Things which, buddy, you are:
  • a boy
    • make a big noise
  • a young man
  • hard man
  • an old man
  • poor man
    • pleading with your eyes
• Activities you are performing:
  • in the street:
    • playing
    • shouting
  • all over the place:
    • kicking your can
    • waving your banner
• Things which you, being a big disgrace, have got on your face:
  • mud
  • blood
• Things which you will some day do:
  • be a big man
  • take on the world
  • make you some peace
• Places back into which somebody better put you:
  • yours
• Things which we will rock:
  • you

And check this one out:

• Things which I will do for love:
  • Anything
• Things which I will not do for love:
  • That

BWAHAHAHA! :D

I went biking at the Greeneway today. As you might expect, there are pictures.

It was beautiful out. It had just rained, and was about to rain again, but I was lucky enough to catch a window of respite. The rain had made it very humid, but it was cool, so when I got up to speed on my bike it felt like a refreshing breeze.

I started at The River Golf Club, as is usual when I go by myself. I like to be as close to the very end of the trail as I can…and it’s also more convenient for me to go to that parking lot than it is to wind back around Georgetown Villas to get to the Activities Center parking lot. This way, I just come up Riverwatch, turn left on 13th Street, go across the bridge to North Augusta, turn right on Buena Vista, and turn right again to get to the lot.

I decided to cruise down along the golf club first, and try to get some pictures of the flowering plants there. As you’ll see, I was pretty fortunate. I also got a couple nice shots of the Augusta skyline from that angle.

Once I entered the main section of the Greeneway (I consider the main section to start at the tunnel where the sign is), I tried to keep myself on track. After all, I was there for exercise…the pictures were just a side bonus.

Of course, you know me. When I saw a good shot, I stopped and took it ;>

Still, I didn’t take as many pictures as I normally would have before I made it to the opposite end of the trail. Eventually, the Greeneway is going to be expanded into a loop (or so I hear), but for now it ends at a parking lot along some street. I took a break and drank some water (for some reason, humidity makes me thirsty), then headed back down.

On my way back, I started trying to bike using no hands. It didn’t take long for me to get acclimated, surprisingly. I rode most of the way back to my car with my arms hanging at my sides, or my hands laced together on top of my head (by this point I was pretty sweaty, and the breeze felt good under my arms). I think it’s easier to ride no-handed when you’re going downhill, but with practice I was able to keep it up even on the uphill sections.

When I passed the Activities Center, I remembered the big dip towards the end of the trail. How was I going to pull that off no-handed? By this point, I didn’t want to use the handlebars. I was enjoying the freedom of not using my hands, raising my arms and pretending I was flying, resting my wrists. So when I got there, I lifted my arms a little for balance, but otherwise didn’t go for the handlebars. I had to stop pedaling and coast down the hill, and then I started pedaling at the bottom and made my way back up…all without using my hands.

Then I saw a tree I wanted to take a picture of, and started losing control, so I grabbed the handlebars and squealed to a stop, laughing. I couldn’t believe I’d done it.

I rode on, through the tunnel and past my car to the little trail that heads out towards Buena Vista. I just wanted to see what the odd brick enclosure looked like after a rain. I’m not sure what it’s used for, but it obviously has something to do with water. Maybe it helps to keep a stream from flooding; I’m not sure. All I know is that it looks neat. Today was no exception; I couldn’t really see a difference in the water level, but the plants growing in the bottom of the enclosure were a beautiful, bright green.

After getting my fill of the loveliness of the brick enclosure and surrounding forest, I finally headed back. It was a great ride, and a beautiful day, and I’m thrilled I got to experience it.

(Blood pressure: 122/84. That’s not too bad!)

I took a very hot bath this morning, followed by a cool shower. It was so nice. I feel very refreshed and comfortable, sitting here on my lovely Aeron chair, wrapped in a towel.

While I bathed, I considered what Sean and I discussed last night. Our rent is set to go up in June. He says that if he can’t talk them down any, we may as well look at getting a house. (A house!) So while I enjoyed my bath, I thought about how nice it would be to design my own floorplan, to integrate Japanese elements into the house. A major thing I want is a large Japanese-style bathroom. I haven’t decided how large I want the tub to be; it’s between a regular Japanese tub (roughly half the length of a US tub, and twice the height), and a more onsen/spa-like tub. There are merits to each. I can take baths more frequently in a smaller tub, because it uses less water. But a large tub lends itself to group bathing, which is a great experience. I don’t know if I could convince people who come over to take group baths or not, though :> Beyond the tub, the bathroom would have a completely tiled floor with drainage, and two showering stations with mirrors, wooden stools, water buckets, and shower sprayers that had holsters at two different heights, one for standing and one for sitting. Very authentic!

The bathroom is something I definitely want, but there are other things that would be nice as well. For example, I would like to have at least one tatami room, preferably two that are adjacent so that I can slide the screens apart to make one large room. These rooms would have the requisite sliding-door closets, filled with lovely things like futon and a blanket for the kotatsu. (Must have a kotatsu!) I would also want a little hibachi grill to use on the table during the summer, and since everyone would be sitting on the floor I’d have to invest in some zabuton.

I’d also like at least part of the Japanese-style side of the house to be openable to the outside, with sliding rice paper screens.

Of course, I want certain American amenities, too. I foresee the Japanese bath being on the ground floor. Obviously, there would need to be a regular bath there, too, for guests. (The toilet and sink are not traditionally placed in the same room as the bath in a Japanese house, so I would end up with a sink and toilet nook, a Japanese bath, and then on the other end of the house a regular bathroom with everything all in one place, and at least a shower.)

I also want a sleek, modern, convenient American-style kitchen, done in golden wood and stainless steel with black marble countertops, with an island and a flat-top stove and a refrigerator/freezer with an automatic ice cube and water dispenser. This kitchen would have a bar area that overlooked the great room, which would have a very tall ceiling, skylights, and hardwood flooring. This room would essentially be the center of the house, and from it would branch off the Japanese side and the American side. I also envision steps going downstairs to a gaming/computer room/den.

:>

But for all that, I don’t really want a big house. Big houses are harder to clean. I want a compact, yet airy design that will allow people to flow smoothly from one spot to the next, but won’t be so gargantuan that crisis cleaning couldn’t be done in a day. (Is this possible?)

Anyway, there are problems with trying to implement Japanese designs in a house here. For one, resalability. If we ever moved–and knowing me, that’s not unlikely–who would buy this house? Would we miraculously be able to keep it as a vacation home? While that’s what I would probably prefer, we can’t assume that will be the case.

The other little item is cost. It would be prohibitively expensive to do everything I want in a first house, but even incorporating small elements, like the Japanese bath, would be costly. I don’t even want to think about how expensive it is to maintain a tatami room. :(

So for now, I think I’m just dreaming :) It would be so nice to have the option of Japanese style elements in an American house…

1) A discussion of bounty hunters. Pretty damn cool. The article is kind of funny, in that it occasionally veers into extraordinarily familiar speech. For example:

He decided on a career in law enforcement a few years later, because, you know, that’s what a lot of ex-military people end up doing.

That was totally out of nowhere. I was, you know, like, “Whoa.”

2) A history of the Japanese word processor. That video of the Japanese typewriter on page 1 is amazing. I think I would have killed myself if I had to use that thing on a regular basis. Thank god for input method editors!

This article is actually part 5 of a 6 part discussion called Japanese in the Age of Technology. It’s apparently Volume 1, so maybe there is more linguistic goodness to come :D

(In case you missed it, I underwent something of a moral dilemma in the comments on my Terri Shiavo post. I think it’s important to let people know that, even though I have no idea what to think now, and I’m frustrated by my inability to have informed opinions. And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.)

As I’m sure you’re all aware, I’ve been going through a lot emotionally. I have come to a decision; all I’m waiting on is the proper time to act. I was thinking this morning that I don’t seem to do anything until it gets so bad I can’t stand it anymore. I seem to prefer a horrible situation to leaping into change. This paradoxically conflicts with one of the biggest decisions of my life, my marriage to Sean and consequent move away from my home. It also conflicts with my impulsive nature, my willingness to drop everything to take trips. I think maybe in some ways I’m punishing myself for my impetuousness. Maybe I feel that there is something wrong with enjoying a life in flux, that I should buckle down like everyone else and “pay my dues”. In other ways, of course, I am afraid of taking risks out of fear of failure. I’ve had a business idea for at least a year now. Have I truly acted on it? Other than a few discussions with a couple possible business partners, no, not really. I know as little about my market as I did when I came up with the idea. I’ve done no research into the materials and labor I’ll need. And while one big reason for my inaction is that I feel trapped by the lack of startup capital, it’s not like I have been searching for ways to build up capital, either.

I have striven for complacency, putting up with more and more and more in the name of stability. And I’m at the breaking point.

There are specific details about why I am unhappy with my current situation that I would like to write about. I mean, I would really like to write about them. I want to recount certain things that were said to me. I want to express how inattentiveness and lack of organization and a severe misallocation of resources due to illogical priorities have contributed to the decline of what could have been something great. I want to explain to the world why I am ashamed now to have my name associated with this venture, and why I want to divorce myself of it as soon as I possibly can.

However, I don’t know how much I can actually say. I don’t know what constitutes libel, and what could possibly get me sued. So for now, I would just like to state that this is it. There is no changing my mind now.

Thanks to Derik (who truly is a godlike nerd!), I have the biggest problem of my template solved. You can look at my test site here. Unfortunately, the topmost table cell just won’t behave. “26 pixels!” I tell it. “Whatever, bitch!” it responds. So I will have to decide how I want to deal with that little issue before I can apply the design to the rest of the pages, and then finally port over all my posts and comments.

It’s been a long road…

Ewwwwwww!

Here’s the latest article on the Terri Shiavo story. For my biographers, who may not be aware (and for those of you in the present day who have been living under a rock), here’s an explanation from the New York Times:

State courts accepted Mr. Schiavo’s testimony that his wife told him several times she would not want life-prolonging measures. She suffered extensive brain damage after her heart stopped one night in 1990 due to an undiagnosed potassium deficiency. Mr. Schiavo originally sought help for his wife, but after eight years he asked a state judge for permission to remove her feeding tube and let her die. Her parents believe she is responsive and can improve with more therapy.

The Yahoo article was a lot longer when I read it a few minutes ago, but somehow between now and then the meat has all disappeared. Somewhere in there, it said that Governor Jeb Bush had a doctor from the Mayo Clinic who “believed” that Mrs. Schiavo “might” be in a limited consciousness state, instead of fully being a mental vegetable. Then there’s this bit of information from ABC News:

Michael, now 41, lives with Jodi Centonze, a 40-year-old resident of the Clearwater, Fla., area. According to reports, she occasionally accompanies Michael when he visits Terri.

Michael and Centonze have two children together, a fact that the Schindlers have cited as proof of Michael’s lack of devotion to his wife, a charge that Michael angrily denies.

When asked on CNN’s “Larry King Live” why he doesn’t simply divorce his wife, Michael said, “This is Terri’s wish, this is Terri’s choice. And I’m going to follow that wish if it’s the last thing I can do for Terri.”

I believe what we are seeing here is the inability of Terri Schiavo’s parents to deal with the fact that their daughter is lost to them. They believe that as long as she can blink and move, as long as they can keep her breathing, that she is with them. And they read into her movements, claiming that she is responsive even when doctors (every one of them except this Mayo Clinic guy, and it’s unclear whether or not he’s even personally seen her) state that there is nothing that can be done, that she is a permanent vegetable.

Meanwhile, we have the man she married…a man who knows his wife is lost, and simply wants to put her body at rest along with her soul. I don’t think it’s surprising that he has found someone else to love him. Men may be strong, but they are also weak. They have a primal need to be taken care of and nurtured. Michael Schiavo couldn’t take on this fight for the wishes of his wife without support.

I read an argument recently that Terri Schiavo’s condition is a test from God that she should not run from, that she should remain alive for the sake of her parents. I believe this is false. First, it is not her decision anymore. She is incapable of making the decision. She is a vegetable. Her husband states that she made her decision already, and he has told us what that decision was. We can’t claim now that she has the right or ability to change her mind. Second, her parents are not benefiting in any way from Terri Schiavo’s survival. They are stuck in the past, trapped by their denial, unable to move on with their lives. Rather than heed their daughter’s wishes, they’ve chosen to selfishly keep her body alive, to demean the man she loved and married, to cause our government to exert an unprecedented (and disturbing) amount of influence in the private lives of its citizens. All because they consider their own needs and desires first. They want their daughter alive because they can’t stand the idea that she’s dead. Nothing else seems to matter to them.

Sean and I both agree that this poor woman should be allowed to die. If either of us were in the same position, we would choose the same thing. Since we’re not sure what kind of reaction our parents would have, we’ve decided that the best thing to do is to write living wills, so this kind of fiasco won’t mark the ends of our lives, too.

So yeah, this woman needs to die.

A woman was charged with stealing money and other items in recent weeks by walking up to six elderly victims, giving them a big hug – and then stealing their wallets or other loose items in the process.

Solar Death Ray!

Here’s the story of two college buddies (well, not really; a guy and his former tutor). One’s now a teacher with no ethics, and the tutor ended up homeless. Does this seem fair?

The Civic Center wants our SPLOST money! I don’t know if I’m for this or against this. I mean, when I originally read about SPLOST, I read that it was supposed to be about new construction, to revitalize more of downtown and the riverfront. Then again, this makes sense:

Members say performers often pass on Augusta because of the condition of the venues.

They hope upgrading the building would boost downtown economy.

I remember the first time I saw the Civic Center. I believe my reaction was something like, “That old shack is still in use?” I guess 60s-70s architecture doesn’t age very well. The Bell, however, looks fine, in my opinion.

I would like at least one of these stools. I think they are neat. It would be cute to have two of them, one that said “heather” and one that said “sean” :)

After Cory Doctorow’s glowing review, I now wish to read Steven Gould’s Jumper and Reflex. (Sequels written from the perspective of the main book’s love interest are weird, in my opinion, but it seems to be working for the Thomas Covenant series…)

In other news, Amazon.com’s empty shopping cart message is cute:

Your Shopping Cart is empty.

Your Shopping Cart lives to serve. Give it purpose–fill it with books, CDs, videos, DVDs, toys, electronics, and more.

Validate me! the shopping cart cries.

Sean’s 1 to 10 pm schedule is very inconvenient, dinner-wise. He’s called me about five times now asking about what he should pick up on his way home, only to then call back and say that that place is closed. Our final choice? McDonald’s. (But this time, I’m getting a salad.)

I stayed at work for the amount of time listed on the schedule that was emailed to me yesterday (that is, until 1 pm). I was pretty productive; throwing myself into my work helps me to get my mind off the things that bother me. After that I stuffed packages and last night’s deposit in my backpack and headed out to the post office and bank. On my bike.

Let me tell you, Martinez Boulevard is a bitch. Somehow, it was all uphill, and into the wind. I felt like I was standing still at points. It sucked.

When I finally got to Commercial Boulevard, I was panting like a sumbitch. Fortunately, that road allowed me to coast a little, so I was refreshed by the time I got down to the post boxes and parked my bike to offload all those packages. (The uphill journey back to Martinez Boulevard was not appreciated, though.)

After that I turned right and headed up to Old Evans Road, then left to Washington, and left again onto Washington so I could stop off at Wachovia. I considered getting a smoothie at R. Gabriel’s once my banking was complete, but ultimately I decided that I was going to have a brownie when I got home, so I didn’t need the extra calories. I headed out Sheriff’s Drive to Davis Road, and down Davis to my apartment.

It was warm today. The wind (the evil, evil wind that seemed to want to blow hard directly in my face) didn’t particularly make things any cooler. It wasn’t hot, but I was fairly sweaty when I finally got home. After I threw my bike helmet into my car, I just stood there for a moment, enjoying how the wind felt when it wasn’t blasting me under the full heat of the sun. The trees, fully in blossom, waved and whispered around me, and white petals fell like snow.

After shoving my bike up the stairs, I changed into shorts and a t-shirt and turned up the A/C. (Ahhhh, aircon.) Then, really, all I did was poke around reading websites and comics, and eating brownies, until finally at around 4 I decided to take a nap. I set my alarm for 6 so I could go to bellydance class, but when I woke up to go to the bathroom at 5:30 I felt way too tired to have to get up in a mere half an hour, so I turned off my alarm. I slept soundly until 10, when Sean got off work and called me to see what I wanted to eat.

And that, dear children, was my day. It was, on the whole, fairly good. It started out a little stressful and annoying, but ended up comfortable, and right now I’m feelin’ fine.