Guilty

Dear Senator Larry Craig,

Here's a thought.

Don't plead guilty to a crime if you didn't do it. Pleading guilty is an admission of guilt. It is not the best way to "get past" an issue. It may be an indication of poor judgment, though trying to solicit sex from an undercover cop is probably worse. And being afraid to come out of the closet... yeah, that's not so good either.

Buck up, Sen. Craig. Being gay isn't as bad as you seem to think it is.

It's worked out pretty well for my dog.

Numbed

I can't feel my face.

OK, more accurately, my tongue feels like it's the size of New Hampshire and my chin feels like it's sticking out about 10 feet from my face. My cheeks... I don't know if I have them any more.

Lucky me, I got two fillings today. It was about an hour in the dentist's chair. I thought they were going to be on the same side, top and bottom. They were both on the bottom, a molar on each side.

Yay.

My mouth was propped open for an hour. Thankfully, the numbness hid the fact my tongue had turned into the Sahara desert. I could tell my upper lip was dry, since I still had feeling there.

The drilling was relatively unpleasant. She used several different drills, or attachments. I know they have different degrees of fineness — the last one she used on each toof felt like it could punch through concrete. Thank dog it didn't go fast.

When it came time to fill these holes, it felt like there were about 20 things in my mouth. For starters, there was a block used to prop open the mouth — there are 4 muscles for biting down, only 1 for keeping it open. Then there was a truckload of cotton, the water thing, the sucky thing, a band around the toof, some wedge things (I couldn't really feel where those went) and then the good doctor poking around.

Opening my eyes just wasn't an option.

Thankfully, the filling part didn't take as long as the drilling, it was just more uncomfortable. Poking, prodding, rinsing, drying. And then they were done. Teef almost as good as new.

We'll see how long it takes for me to get feeling back. My chin is still very numb, cheeks don't exist. While I can't feel my tongue or taste anything, I know it's there since it feels gigantic. It's this mass in my mouth and I feel like I could bite through it. It's pretty weird to bite it and feel no pain. Yeah, no eating for quite some time.

Oh, and talking? Yeah, right. It's like Elmer Fudd, Cartman and Sylvester rolled into one.

We like...

• nice, long hugs that you don't want to end
• purring cats
• dogs that are so happy to see you they can't stop wagging
• holding hands
• laughing about silly things
• the light in his eyes when he smiles
• being tired and content
• being loved
• being us

Revolving

Responsible people, as a general rule, are accountable for their actions. They plan. They factor in little things like traffic or lines at the airport.

I know I'm irresponsible with things like money, and not wanting to work all the time. But if I know I've gotta head through security at the airport, I'm gonna get there 2 hours early so I'm not late for my flight.

At Oakland, the line through security was pretty long. I don't know if these people were full of shit and wanted to get through the line, or were really late. But there were 5-7 people who asked to cut to the front of the line because they had to make their flight.

Let's think about this. You generally make your flight reservations 2 weeks in advance. So 20 minutes before your plane leaves, you panic because you didn't give yourself enough time and then think you need special treatment so you don't miss your plane.

Listen, dumbasses, the rest of us are capable of planning. We can tell time, and we can structure our day around when we need to be at the airport. So what if you have 45 minutes to kill before takeoff. Isn't that better than running behind and inconveniencing others? It's that fucking sense of entitlement again, the belief that the world owes you something. It's the belief that the world owes you something.

Wrong.

The only thing you're entitled to is being kicked in the balls by Karma Bunny.

Bitches.

Progress?

Wandered up to Telegraph Ave. today. For those unfamiliar with the area around UC Berkeley, this is the street with the funky vendors, head shops, killer record stores and plenty of character. At least, that's what I remember.

Still a decent number of street vendors (one of mom's classmates has a jewelry stand), still some character, but it doesn't have the same gritty Berkeley charm. It's like the street sold out to the suburbanites that are inhabiting Cal these days.

Back in the day, there were lots of local businesses, real hippies and real punks. You could get a giant slice of pizza for about $1.50 and get a few CDs (or tapes!) for under $20. There wasn't a corporate presence.

A lot of that changed after the Rodney King verdict riots. Telegraph was a popular target for looters and many businesses couldn't afford to stay open.

That doesn't explain the presence of Hot Topic on Telegraph.

For a city known for quirkiness and uniqueness, WTF is Goth in the Box doing — especially on this street?

Maybe the suburban, Republican college students need to be reminded of the mall back home. But really. If you want vanilla, don't go to Cal. Pick some boring-ass school in the middle of the country, get a mediocre education and keep your boring-ness the hell out of what used to be the heart of the radical revolution.

Ants marching

After a few days without the intarwebnets, we're on again. Yeah, definitely some withdrawals going on there, but what else do you expect from someone with an Apple tattoo?

People in Boise talk about traffic, how it takes sooooooo long to drive from Boise to some place like Meridian or Nampa. Please. From Boise, you can get to just about anywhere in 15 minutes. From Berkeley, you're looking at 30 minutes minimum to get anywhere. Don't bother with the freeway, it's not worth the frustration or the time.

I love the Bay Area. I'm proud to be from here. I love that I can get Indian, Southern, Chinese, Japanese, whatever kind of food I'm in the mood for. The weather is great, there's plenty to do. If you're a sports fan, this is a great area for college and pro sports. The schools are solid and it really is a beautiful area.

What I dislike is the sheer volume of people. And today was Saturday — and the roads were clogged. There are too many people, too many cars and not enough space. Sure, the air is cleaner here, and the Bay is right there too. I think living in Idaho has ruined me for what I'll tolerate in terms of crowds. I like the pace of the big city, just get rid of some of the people. Think about it: We're like ants, traveling along our paths, clustering in our work groups, traveling back to our nests. So much easier to get where you're going with fewer ants in the way.

Boise really isn't too horrible, other than being in the middle of Whiteyville and lacking diversity in ethnicity and food. The thing that drives me nuts about the Treasure Valley right now is the air quality. Well, that and the fact I can't drive to the coast in a timely manner.

It is good to be with family. Haven't done anything too exciting, but really, that's not what I do on vacations. We've gone out to eat several times, done a lot of shopping, but mostly, it's just been rest and relaxation.

So yeah. Time to get back to that relaxing thing.

Vacation!

Been up for 2 hours already... probably didn't need to be at the airport at 6 a.m., but better to be safe.

Not surprisingly, there are quite a few people here — more crowded than what I'm used to seeing. I don't ever fly out this early, but it made more sense than leaving late last night. At least I'll still have the whole day.

Don't have a whole lot to say, just wanted to take advantage of the free wi-fi at the airport and post. :P

Yeah, I'm that big of a geek (duh).

And for the record, goodbyes still suck, but I think I did better this time than most. Would still rather have the man coming with me on this trip instead of delivering me to the airport. The ride was greatly appreciated. And he gives good hugs.

Car ride

mom took me on a car ride yesterday. i like rides. i want more rides. i want to go to fun places.

i didn't get to sit next to mom, but i had a whole spot to myself. sometimes i fell off the seat. i don't know if mom knows how to control the car. i think she goes fast. we passed a lot of places i wanted to sniff and mark. i was sad we didn't stop.

when we stopped we were somewhere i had been before. there were lots of smells. we went inside and there were SO MANY different smells! i want to sniff everything but mom didn't let me.

we went into a room and i sniffed. mom put me on a table and i didn't like it. the other lady talked to me and i sniffed her. then she put something in my BUTT and i was sad. she tried to give me a cookie when she took the thing out of my BUTT but i didn't want it. she violated me.

then a man came in and i sniffed him. he talked to me and asked mom some stuff. he touched my privates and i didn't like that. then he took me out of the room and i saw cats and dogs. they were scared and sad. some were happy because they were going home. a lady took me outside and i got to PEE! then she brought me back to mom.

we sat in the room for a long time. i got the cookie and i hid it. the man came back and talked to mom. then we left. i was too tired to look around but we were home very soon.

we went inside and cassie came and sniffed me. then mom gave me CHEESE! i think there was something in it, but i got CHEESE! it tasted good.

i was tired and i took a nap. when i woke up, i felt pretty good. and then i got more CHEESE.

Viva what?

Saw a commercial Sunday night.

Six middle-aged guys in some kind of bar. They're playing instruments and pretending to sing. It's got a cheesy sorta Chili's or Appleby's sound to it. Then they get to the chorus.

Viva Vi-agra.... viva Vi-agra

Why the fuck ... ?

Saw the commercial again tonight. "Check with your doctor to make sure it's safe for you to have sex."

I think at the point that you could kill yourself having sex, you shouldn't do it. Really. Get cozy with a tube sock, or just don't do it. I mean really. For 15 seconds of ecstasy, is it worth a coronary? Hell, for some old guys, sporting a boner would probably be enough for them to pass out.

Then again, it's better not to think about old men and boners. Or a cheesy bunch of bad lip synchers butchering Elvis.

Yeah, it's time for sleep...

Riding through

Resignation isn't always a bad thing.

Nixon's resignation worked out for the country and really helped the greater good (the greater good). I'm pretty proud of two resignations I turned in — leaving the Press-Tribune and the one-sentence letter I turned in at Corporation X.

Then there's the kind of resignation that comes from just being along for the ride. Many of the passengers on the Titanic were resigned to their fates. Millions of people are resigned to living mediocre lives, working mediocre jobs. There's the kind of resignation that comes from knowing fighting will hurt too much. In some cases, it's better not to rock the boat.

It pains me to see the fight taken out of someone. But there are some instances when it's better to fight another day.

There's a delicate balance. Do you fight for the sake of fighting, because it's the right thing to do, and risk alienation? Or do you sit back and let whatever happens happen? My instincts tell me to do both. And I've been wrong before — for fighting and for sitting back.

I don't think there are many people who enjoy sitting back and watching, especially when they're right. I suppose patience and a Zen approach are part of taking the high road. It's difficult to take the "wait and see" approach when you know you can affect the outcome. There are times I lashed out and regretted — check that — disapproved of the end result. Some things are better left unsaid.

Yeah, here I go being vague again. But it's not my fight. It could be, but it isn't. I can only provide support, which I hope is enough. It goes back to doing the right thing, and fighting for what you care about.

I guess the lesson here is that sometimes, not fighting is the only way to win.

Grrrrrrr...

I fought the migraine all week.

It left yesterday afternoon, only to be replaced by a headache later in the evening.

I wrestled with what kind of headache it was -- right side of head; opposite from where I get my migraines. Could this be food related? Possible, since I think certain foods (like wheat and dairy) are migraine triggers now. It took awhile for me to recognize it as a sinus headache -- hadn't had one of those since I was sick this spring. I had gotten to sleep at a decent hour but tossed and turned until the pain forced me out of bed.

No problem, I thought at about 3 a.m. Still have enough time to rest up and head to work. I tried using ye olde neti pot to clear the nasal passages and no luck. The ice pack was doing nothing. I took a vicodin. I think I passed out close to 4.

I woke up at 6:40, which is about 5 minutes past when I need to leave for work. I vaguely recall hearing the alarm, but I don't remember shutting it off, which is what must have happened. And so here I sit, sheepish and chagrined, knowing that missing this much time from work is a bad thing.

It's apparent I need to get my shit together again. I never used to get sick, didn't really care. And now, I've let health issues control way too much of my life. To be fair to myself, I've got a pretty decent pain tolerance. But there's something about the way migraines hurt that is soul crushing and demoralizing.

I need to get past that. And I need to figure it out soon.

Migration complete!

OK,

All the bloggings live here now. I'm granting access to people I want to read and to those who ask for permission. So if you're in here, then you get to see all the craziness in my head from the past few years.

Myspace finally allowed me back into my own account. Not sure what the fuck they were doing, don't think I care. Blogging will be done here, not there because it sucks. I will use that site for socializing and that's about it.

Even with having my profile limited to friends isn't enough; I'm just pretty annoyed with that site. Plus, I've got enough space on my .Mac account where I can start hosting a lot of my own stuff. But before I get there, I want to spruce up ye olde template here. And who knows when I'll have time for that.

Anyway, I need to find sleep. Migraine has finally left, but I've got a plain old tension headache. Woo fucking hoo.

News flash

Myspace sucks ass.

I've been denied access to my account for about 8 hours now, no explanation, no email, no ability to contact these needle dick dipshits to find out what they're doing to my account. I just want to get the rest of my blogs out of there. This is the note I tried to send them:

This is the message I've been getting since around 2 p.m. today:
This user's profile has been temporarily disabled for special maintenance.
The profile will be available again shortly.
Sorry for the inconvenience. 8/8/2007

When I try to log on, I get:

Sorry! an unexpected error has occurred.

This error has been forwarded to MySpace's technical group.

That's the same message I get when I click the link for "home."

All I want to do is migrate my blog entries from this site to a new home. What gives? And what kind of maintenance are you guys doing to my profile? This is pretty annoying. If your error message was more ... relevant, I'd probably be OK. But it's vague and doesn't tell me anything. If there's a problem with the account, how about an email? You guys have that info on file.

Thanks. For what, I have no idea.

I don't know what I expect. It's free and it's the trailer park of social networking sites. I only really like it for the blog, and this one is way better.

And yet, I can log on with Roscoe's account... What. The. Hell.

Another open letter

Dear Migraine,

I'm guessing you don't know how to read since you're still here. I mean really, there's a perfectly good host for you in Idaho Falls. I'll draw you a map.

Seriously, you were supposed to be gone this morning. And no, you won't entice me to take that Imitrex shit again. No way.

I would like to thank you for allowing me the time to consolidate my various bloggings into one location. I couldn't have started that project without your help. But you're an asshole. And staying around won't make me like you any more.

You're awfully resistant to the normal methods. I'm not sure what this means. In any event, take a fucking hike. I'm thinking healthy thoughts. Go find a new host.

~ J

Migration

So this is the 4th or 5th blog I've done. I've got one on my .Mac account, there's a LiveJournal somewhere, myspace (blegh), virb and facebook. I'm planning on adding them all here, so everything is in one place.

Prepare for more incoherent ramblings!

Edit: I've gotten everything from LiveJournal migrated and I'm halfway through the .Mac stuff. Woo.

An open letter ...

Dear Migraine,

How are you doing these days? I haven't seen you around for a bit, and I can't say I've missed you. I think I was better off when you weren't here. Not only do you make my head hurt like someone's driving an ice pick through my left temple, but you make me sick to my stomach. I applaud your consistency, but you get in the way of things like work and life. And it's getting old.

I've done what I can at the doctor. I guess maybe I need to throw down for an MRI to see if there's some other nefarious cause for you. Yeah, I've still got that Imitrex. But you want to hear something funny? That stuff makes me feel worse than you do. What are the odds?

And yet, I took the Imitrex last night -- against my better judgment -- and was pretty messed up for the rest of the day.

You probably think it's OK to come and go as you please. Three days is definitely enough to wear out the welcome, and you're terrible at getting the hint that I'm sick and tired of you being in my life. Whether it's prescription drugs or the home remedies I've tried, you hide for a bit and then continue your stay.

Take the hint: Fuck off already. I can think of two people you should be with -- CWB or my ex. If you pick CWB, feel free to turn into something vile like chlamydia or genital warts. If you pick my ex, I'd like for you to live in his penis and/or testicles. Because really, who wouldn't want their ex to feel the searing pain of an ice pick to the balls for three days straight?

Still bitter? A little. Tired of the pain in my head? Fuck yes.

Thanks for caring,

Jen

Nerd envy

I'm a geek.

Let's get this out of the way now. I love my Powerbook, my iPod, my digital camera. I have 3 (three!) video game related tattoos. I have an Apple logo tattooed on my right wrist along with the universal power symbol. I know the names of minor characters in Star Wars (all 6 movies) and have a collection of action figures, Legos and books.

For fun, I paint pewter miniatures and play several different tabletop war games. I own a PS2, GameCube, Dreamcast, Sega Saturn, Sega Genesis, Sega Master system, NES, Super NES, N64, Nintendo DS, Sega Nomad, Sega Game Gear, tons of old Atari stuff and a Neo Geo Pocket.

I have a small collection of anime, some sci-fi on DVD and a decent amount of anime and video game collectibles. I do enjoy video game soundtracks and have played a few MMORPGs.

I do not dress up as any of the characters from any of the above items. Well, except for Halloween, when I was a Mac and Scott was a PC. And I was Mario at work. But that's beside the point.

I am not, nor will I ever be, a member of the sub-nerd culture that we were exposed to today.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I have the right words to describe the scene that unfolded. We were only there for about 4 hours. It was something greater than fear; they knew we weren't one of them. Like it was hard to tell we weren't into live action versions of cartoons. Or manga.

Scott and I spent part of Sunday afternoon at Fandemonium, the local anime/sci-fi fan fest. We were there to demo Warmachine, our war game of choice. Since we were doing a demo, we got in for free.

This thing started on Friday. This was the last day. I'm really, really afeared of how things looked on Day 1.

We had a few folks interested in the game we were playing. We decided to throw down a 750 pointer with bigger versions of the armies we used in Saturday's tournament. There was a nerdling who took interest and I think he wasn't sure how to handle being spoken to by a human female. Didn't like to make eye contact, took sideways glances, that kinda thing. He seemed interested in the game, then had to run off to play Magic with a friend. *sigh*

Lotsa folks in costumes came in and out of the room -- which was designated for table top gaming. There were some pen & paper RPGs going on and some flavor of Games Workshop miniatures gaming. The guy with the straight jacket and scary mask made me giggle. His friend had black and white facepaint and looked like a reject from Inane Clown Posse. There was the guy with what was supposed to be a Sonic the Hedgehog costume. He was affiliated with the BSU Anime Club. Note to self: Never. Getting. Involved. With. That.

There were folks dressed up as various anime characters I recognized -- recognized but couldn't name, thankyouverymuch. Sonic the Animehog was scary. That was before I saw the sub-nerd with the wooden katana shoved through his belt loop.

I think the thing that bugs me the most about the sub-nerd dorks is the fact they think everything Japanese makes them cool. They were drinking overpriced Japanese soda, eating overpriced Japanese candy and dressing up as bizzaro Japanese characters. Katana Boy was just sad. What he supposed to be?

"I'm Mega Gaijin! I will impress you with my trivial knowledge of all things Japanese! Did you know that shoyu is Japanese for soy sauce? Did you know that miso is made with fermented tofu? Did you know that tofu is made from soy beans? Hey, wanna go hang out in my basement and watch Dragonball-Z and play with my Wii?"

After our volunteer time was over, we walked around the Nampa Civic Center to check out the sights. Plenty more costumed folks, ranging from Strange Girl in Kimono, to Squirrelly Boy with Really Big Sword to Ohmygawd I Don't Know WTF You're Supposed to Be But You Scare Me and I'm Walking the Other Way. Then we gathered our belongings and went in search of food.

Leading up to this weekend, we had joked about how I could be pursued by the white & nerdy set. Asian gamer geek female with video game tattoos; plays video games and table top war games. It was suggested I could end up in some nerd's closet as the latest addition to his All Things Japanese Collection. Yeah, there was no way I was going anywhere there alone. But it didn't hit me until we were in the car: Until we arrived, there was a conspicuous absence of Asians.

But really. I can completely understand the lack of Asians. If I wasn't there to demo Warmachine, I would have stayed far, far away. And ethnicity aside, would you really want to be in a convention center with things like this:

*

*Not an acutal image from Fandemonium. These are random folks found on a Google search for cosplay.

The fandom way of life isn't my thing. I'm a collector. I collect series of DVDs, I like to have all of the music from some artists, I like to have every unit/model for the armies I play. I count that as OCD, not fandom. Am I a Mac fan? Hell yeah. Apple and Macs are a way of life. And I guess the argument could be made for anime and manga being a way of life. But I don't need to put on a costume for my lifestyle, nor do I need to immerse myself in another culture to be "cool." I can respect the people who do the costume thing well and aren't complete flaming dorks about it. I will keep a safe and healthy distance from the others.

But hey, I got blog fodder out of the whole thing. I left unmolested and without having anyone try to talk to me in Japanese -- which I don't speak since dropping language school around 5th grade.

And I owe it all to this guy:



Just call him the envy of all nerds.

It really does pay to have a boyfriend who looks like an axe murderer. ;)