December 1st

                In a severe photon shock because I spent something like six straight hours at work doing some serious pixel bashing for the website. All of which was crushed by Darren's damn-good comment of "It's a bit boxy..." Argh... Unfortunately, when one is building a website for an investment bank, there's not much room to be daring. I think the fact that we're putting up a picture of a choo-choo train is plenty daring, as it is.
                And the day was capped by Rick telling me that he didn't think it would be apt for us to be wearing blue jeans to the office anymore, as the chance of clients coming in has gone up by an order of magnitude. Black jeans are fine, he says, blithely unaware of how his announcement had gone down like a lead balloon. The only pair of black jeans I have are a pair that Alex outgrew. And all my other clothing is a little too high on the dressy/goth scale for the office. Great.
                So I'm going to try to turn this into an opportunity. My absolute lack of everyday style has been grinding on me, lately - no doubt impacted by my constant exposure to unspeakably groovy SF people in Potrero Hill. Now, for all I know, those same people are dying to get home and unwind in a pair of old jeans and no-name sneakers, but that's not my problem. So I've just dropped a frightening amount of cash over at the discount fabric store which should, in the course of the next week or so, be turned into two pairs of pants, a skirt and assorted vest-type thingies. And only one item will be black! Shock, horror! I picked up some nifty eggplant-colored satin (pants) and a great black-sorta-paisley-flocked emerald satin (skirt and vest) and a lot of dark red doe suede (coat and pants). I'll be positively riotous by the time that lot is sewn up. To counteract that, I'll be buying a lot of black turtlenecks and semi-dressy tee-shirts at Mervyn's next week... ;)
                The coat issue has me agonizing. There are two patterns that Folkwear offer that I find appealing - one is a turn of the century ladies' driving coat (think stylish-trench coat) and the other is a 1920's 'spectator coat'. Each of them encompass certain challenges - one has lots of buttonholes, the other is fully lined - and I'm not sure if I can hack either one of them. And I'm having a tough time deciding between them. The fact that any coat longer than a regular jacket makes me feel like a fat person in a roomy sack doesn't really help, either. The driving coat is more shapely, but longer and potentially more unwieldy. Unfortunately, I really need a longer coat for cold nights, so I don't think there's any weaseling out of this one...

                Gaming Musings
                You can't keep a bad man down. According to Alex, I was tossing and muttering in my sleep again, and I'm pretty certain it's Paul demanding my downtime. I had a rather odd half-dream about him, just as I was falling asleep. It was a conversation between character and author, and if I could remember one word of what was said, I would be bloody ecstatic. What's the point of all this nifty subconcious time if I can't remember any of it.
                I tell ya, I'm starting to feel like a character in a Jhonen Vasquez comic. The minute my Mr. Squeeky starts talking to me, I'm putting myself in an asylum. Well, as long as I'm having fun, I guess it's alright...

      ***

      December 2nd

                I knew it, I knew I was talking myself into laryngitis last night. As usual, though, that didn't stop me. Well, I'm not entirely hoarse, but this morning was a bit of an adventure...
                Alex and Dave went off to Bob's last night - Dave is running a D&D game - and Chris offered to keep me company for a while, since his wife was closing at her job in the mall. Knowing that he wanted to chat about possibly collaborating in the project and maybe do some RP for Aragon, I was more than happy to spend some time with him.
                Poor Chris. I bet he thought 'conversation' meant that both of us would be talking. As it was, I hardly let the lad fit a word in edgewise. Actually, I was a bit surprised by my own verbosity - and that's saying something (um, pun unintended). Every now and then I would catch myself running off at the mouth and I would try to throw the conversation towards Chris. But it was doomed to futility, as I would jump all over the topic within a few sentences. Damn.
                I suppose it could have been attributed to the past week being not much beyond work and sleep, maybe I felt a need to catch up for time lost. Well, that and Chris is fun to talk to. He's a smart chap and we share a lot of interests in common. The fact that he sometimes flatters me outrageously doesn't hurt, either. ;)
                So, as far as I can recall, the night was a four-hour monologue on my part. My throat was sore when I went to bed and it's distinctly wavery today. Silly Johanna. What happened to those days when I could go on for twelve hours at a time and not feel it? Oh yeah, I got older. Drat.
                Chris seems pretty keen on the idea of us collaborating on a writing project, but I'm a bit leery, for a couple of reasons. One reason is simple: I don't want to make any promises I can't keep, and I particularly don't want to break a promise to a buddy. The other is I'm not sure that there's a project that would engage our mutual interest. That latter issue could probably be resolved over a couple cups of coffee, but that first one... I don't know.
                I've been feeling super-flakey for the past few months (dregs, I think, of the deep blue funk that ensnared me during the last few months at MM) so I've been increasingly reluctant to commit to anything, as I'm sure I'll wriggle out of it within a few months - letting people down in the process. My time might be my own to waste or not as I wish, but I don't really want to drag other people down with me. But I've been enheartened by the recent re-awakening of my flagging creativity - even if it is just RPG writing and sewing silly costumery. I've completed more creative tasks in the past six weeks than in the six months before that. So I'm tentatively looking forward to a renaissance, but I don't want to build up my (or anyone else's) hopes unrealistically and then have it all collapse.

                Gaming Musings
                None. Isn't that a nice change? ;)

      ***

      December 4th

                Heh, I'm not the only one at Miskatonic Acres who is beginning to feel old. Early Saturday afternoon, Dave headed out to a rave with Jen Brecheen and Tony V. 11AM Sunday, Dave returned, looking about as tired as I've ever seen him. "How was it?" I asked. Dave merely croaked "Those things are a young man's game" and retreated to bed for the next seven hours. Ouch.
                Fucking with sleep patterns was definitely the order of the weekend. Friday night, I slept pretty well, but - of course - I slept too long. So I stayed up pretty late on Saturday, which meant I slept later on Sunday and... you get the picture. This morning was just a joy.
                But at least I stayed up late for good reasons. While Jenn was off raving, Alex and I dragged Jenn's husband, Chris, over for a visit. Chris brought over his stack of Kevin Smith DVDs and I finally watched Dogma. I've been a bit leery of Kevin Smith movies - as per my 'avoid anything the media squeals that loudly about' policy - but I'm glad Alex and Chris convinced me to sit still for that one. Given that the only member of the cast that I can usually bear is Alan Rickman, I was inclined to dislike the movie just on principle. I mean, Ben Affleck? Matt Damon? Come on...
                So, of course, I laughed my ass off throughout the entire thing. The screenplay was tight and I guess Smith has got a talent for sitting on actors as needed, which saved the movie from crossing the line from farcical to just plain sad.
                But now this means I've got to watch the rest of the 'New Jersey Series' now. There goes the rest of the week...

                Damn and blast! Nortel have cancelled the class that was going to bring Brian out for a visit. This is the third time the class has been cancelled and we're all starting to get a little tired of the situation. Brian, meanwhile, is on the verge of cashing in some of his hard-earned vacation time and spending some real time with us. In which case, I'm sure he's going to wait until the weather is warmer. So much for seeing Brian over New Year's. So much for Alex's idea of dragging the Kindred family over from Vegas and having a little west-coast reunion. Thbbt. Pout.
                But Alex and I are still going to try to clear out the 'box-room' as we had planned. Given that we pay the rent for it, having that third bedroom would be nice. We've got a futon for it and everything, just like real grown-ups. Heavens forbid that late-staying guests might have a place to stay other than our icky sofa... Keeping the futon non-icky will be a challenge, given Tigger's penchant for pissing on the furniture. Fortunately, vinyl futon-covers are quite affordable. I swear, that cat is lucky he's so damned cute, otherwise I would have wrung his furry little neck years ago.

                Last night was another visit with Jenn and Chris. It's nice to have some friends who live close enough for impromptu get-togethers. Alex has made some dry remark about finding the 'uber-us' - two people who are like us, only more so - but I think he was getting high off comic-book fumes or something. Anyways, we just hang out over burgers at some diner and talked about nothing in particular, given that none of us were going to sleep before midnight. Ah, bliss. I think we alarmed our waitress a tad when she came by during the middle of yet-another 'no shit, there I was in a ten-by-ten stone corridor' story - this one about Alex's Star Wars game. I was ranting about the damage some blasted Sith Lord had inflicted on my ship, goddammit - without giving much thought to how such statements might be received by passers-by. But we left an outrageous tip on a tiny check, so I hope that made up for it...

                I've started re-reading The Ethical Slut again, which is always good for public transit, because one can derive endless amusement from watching other commuters noticing the title of the volume. Practical Demon Keeping is a good second, but the cover looks a little too jokey for it to startle strangers. Seriously, though, The Ethical Slut is an interesting and useful volume for anyone interested in polyamorous relationships - lots of good advice, warnings, etc. Yes, there's a reason why I'm re-reading it. No, I'm not going to talk about it online unless all concerned parties agree - and I rather doubt they will.

                Changing the subject once again - there's a reason this journal has Ramblings in it's name, y'know - I caught Part One of the Dune miniseries on the Sci-Fi channel last night. There's only a couple of things wrong with it: the casting, the direction, the adaptation and the costuming. Otherwise it's bearable.
                Alright, that was mean, I'll admit that. But, man, it's a disappointment. You think with six hours to play with, a decent effort could be cranked out. I can accept the addition of many secondary characters to help explain certain plot elements, but a lot of story changes just don't make sense. Why is Irulan at the dinner party in Arakeen? Why do the Sardaukar look even sillier than the Swiss Guard? Why are the Fremen so clean? Why is Paul Atreides whining even more than Luke Skywalker did in Star Wars: A New Hope? Sure, the casting of Baron Harkonnen and Dr. Kynes are pretty spot-on, but talk about too little, too late.
                The newsgroup alt.fan.dune was saturated with similar caterwauling. It's the most traffic that group has seen in years. God help the director of the miniseries if he ever gets within reach of these people. Even fans who thought David Lynch should burn in hell for his adaptation couldn't forgive the Sci-Fi channel (and some of them are starting to consider Lynch in a more sympathetic light, hm). About the only thing the fans could even begrudgingly praise was the fact that this production - supposedly - is using Frank Herbert's own pronunciation of character names - harko'nin, uh-tree-dee's, tu-fir, etc... But there's much online spatting about even that...
                Me, I've only got one question: did anyone involved with this production actually read the bloody book? From the look of the series, I don't think so.

                Gaming Musings
                I'm going to be spending the next day or so catching up on Aragon, as things have eased up at work enough for me to leave it at the office for the next couple of days. I amused myself over the weekend by creating a Tzimisce-style 'Choose Your Own Adventure' for Hilario. Apparently it tied Chris up in knots - rather fitting given the plot, hum... I'd share it with y'all, but it's very twisted and this webhost doesn't approve of sites linking to such things - and never mind the fact that my father reads this journal and there are some creative endeavors that shouldn't be shared with family. Well, not with mine.
              Side note: honestly, I think my dear ol' dad has about as much interest in my hobbies as a scallop does in the economy of Zaire, but everyone maintains the personal fiction that their parents can be shocked - although I think my popster is slightly less flappable than most. But I'm in no rush to put anything to the test, because if I did, one of us would get a nasty shock, and I'm not sure it wouldn't be me...

              Alex will be running his Star Wars game for the first time in a while, at the end of the week, and I'm already looking forward to it. We've still got to do some final tweaks on my incoming character, as she's still a bit lopsided, but I'm reasonably confident it'll work out alright.
                I'll miss playing Dora, but only a smidgen. I doubt the group will miss her much, either. The idiot-savant bimbo with gobs of charisma concept was far less entertaining (and sustaining) over the long-term than I anticipated... About the only advantage it had was that playing her was quite undemanding, and that suited my end-of-the-week mentality just fine. However, I took it too far and it was difficult to get Dora to put anything on the line, plotwise - and I didn't care about her enough to put the energy into finding a way to get her more involved. Friday-laziness not withstanding, the time I put into Dora was damned minimal, even by my standards.
                But I'm a bit more fired up about the new character I've got lined up, so I guess I'll be back to my trying-not-to-hog-the-GM routine in no time. Fortunately, the current crop of characters are pretty tough to shove out of the spotlight, so I don't think I'll have to worry about it, much. Still, it's something that worries me, as I know I'm an attention-fiend, but I don't want to be known as the annoying-S.O.-of-the-GM. I see enough of them at conventions and hate 'em for the blight they are...       

                With Dave's latest gaming-venture - this time it's AD&D - I don't think my appropriation of his pulp-era game will be happening any time soon. Apparently it's looking like Dave might be able to keep this latest chronicle of his going for a while - unlike the abortive re-start of his 7th Sea game and stillborn pulp-era chronicle - and I'm not real keen to start carving into my Saturdays for a game. The pulp-era thing is pure brain-candy and not very high priority. Too many of us have other standing obligations on Saturdays, although I'm probably the only one who spends most Saturdays in the fabric store or over the sewing machine. 

      ***

      December 5th & 6th

                From feast to famine. After another absentee-boss day, Rick blasted into the office unusually early for him - 9:30AM - and we immediately set down to another round of tweaks to the website. They're totally justified, and the addition of some new train pictures is great but, damn, it's not even noon yet and I'm pixel-shocked. With luck, the site will be live by Thursday or so. But I've not tested it in Netscape, yet, and the thought of that fills me with dread, as I've a bad feeling it's going to suck.
                Fortunately, the content kicks ass. My boss has got a bit of an unsung talent for pepping up what would otherwise be some very dry text about the business and what it can do. I'm starting to wonder what he needs me around for...
                Yawn... I probably wouldn't be so susceptible to photon shock if I had slept well last night. No, I didn't stay up late. This time it was a nasty little nightmare that chose to jump all over me at 2AM. I can usually shrug them off - long practice - but this one had me insisting Alex turn on the light, get me a drink of water, etc. Yuk.

                And no sooner had I typed the above paragraph than things got busy in the office. Really busy. Not only did I not a chance to finish the entry, but I totally forgot to take it home too - since I'm without an online connection at the office, I've been writing the daily-ish diatribe at my desk, and then upload it when I get home. So leaving the disk at the office is tres annoying.
                Tuesday night was pretty low key. Dave was in a foul mood for some reason - I'm sure the fact that Alex and I left him stranded at BART didn't help - so Alex and I headed off to the Brecheen's for a visit. In transit, Dave had managed to spread his foul mood via online messaging to Jennifer Brecheen, so when we arrived, the conversation was a little stilted for a while. Some emotions should be shared, others, never...
                Fortunately, Jenn managed to shake off the worst of her funk and she was able to join the conversation a short while into the evening. Oddly enough - given my usual attitudes - we had an extended chat about Disney animated features. Jenn has a copy of the stage version of "Beauty And The Beast" and insisted we hear a song that had been added to the production for Gaston - his proposal to Belle. It was a hoot! I might have to pick up that CD...
                Tuesday night was pretty much a repeat of Monday - although I decided not to wake Alex after the latest bout of nocturnal nastiness. But that good intention was for naught, as Dave coming in the front door at 2:30AM (...whatever...) managed to wake up every creature in the house. If I hadn't been dreaming about big nasties, I probably could have shrugged the whole thing off and gone back to sleep pretty easily, but that was not to be, as I spent over half-an-hour imagining axe-murderers and the like. Drat. The commute this morning was bloody awful. I always manage to fall asleep about five minutes before the train reaches my station. Oh, for Alex's fall-asleep-anywhere talent...

                Christmas looms and I'm feeling particularly Grinch-like this year. Maybe it's because Alex and I can't afford to be as lavish with gift-giving as we were last year, but I suspect only laziness is responsible for my reluctance to draw up a list and figure out what to buy people. I also hate and loathe the mall at the holidays, but it's too late to resort to catalogs or e-sellers. I'm on the verge of copping out and making a big donation to some warm and fuzzy charity in the names of my friends, but I'm not sure if that'll go down real well with them. Heck, I'll be the first to admit that getting nice little presents is fun!
                And don't ask me what I'm going to get for Alex. Everything I have in mind is big-ticket - like $300+ - and if I buy him something like that, I won't have much money left for friends, no matter how lazy I'm feeling about shopping. But he's got so many of the little things he wants, darnit! And it's no fun if you ask your hunnybunny what they want... Meanwhile, I'm not allowed to buy anything for myself between now and the holidays, lest I buy something that Alex has already hidden in the closet. Bah. Self-denial has never sat well with me.

                Gaming Musings
                I'm still trying to play catchup with Aragon, ugh.

                Alex has decided that we'll probably go catch the D&D movie, rather than run the Star Wars game on Friday. The movie looks deliciously awful (snarl some more, Jeremy!) and, as gamers, we're kinda obligated to go see it...

      ***

      December 8th

                It's been another busy couple of days, but nothing really worth writing about. The highlight of yesterday had to be the installation of DSL in the office, which resulted in half my day getting vaped as I caught up with my online cartoons and various e-mail accounts. Heh.
                Now I've just got to crawl through web and update the offices' database of VC contacts - about 250 or so. Aiyee... Then I've got to go trolling for SEC filings for the potential client list I built last month. Oy. The work is a little dull, because it's so repetitive. And I can't install Instant Messenger on my machine because I don't have that kind of permission on the network... Fortunately, AOL run a quickie Java-based version that doesn't require installation locally, so I can chat with buddies as I go, just with a limited interface.
                At least, with the boss out of the office this morning, I can crank the 80s station while I work.

                Tonight is the D&D movie. The more I see, the more awful it looks. Still, it can't be a bigger waste of my time than that Dune miniseries and a b-movie will only steal two hours of my life, not six. Besides, we're going to a very late show, maybe I can get drunk first or something...

                Gaming Musings
                Alex is going to run a short Star Wars vignette tonight, then we're going to head out to the D&D movie. As we get closer to the introduction of my new character, the more nervous I get. I'm still a little doubtful about how well she's going to fit into the group. Still, it can't be much more awkward than the Dora situation.

      ***

      December 9th

                Happy birthday, Jennifer!
                So, Jen's planned party melted down from lack of response to the issued invitations, dammit. Am I the last person on earth who knows that RSVP means that you must respond - be it in the positive or negative? It doesn't mean "If you're not attending the event, don't bother responding to this invitation because, of course, the host can read your mind and can tell the difference between 'I-can't-come' silence and 'I-never-got-the-invitation' silence". Arrrgh! I know I'm a bit tactless at times, but people's cavalier treatment of invitations drives me nuts. The fact that I have to try to read twenty minds before each Aragon game has probably done nothing to sweeten my disposition...
                Where was I? Oh yeah, so Jennifer is going to come over to Miskatonic Acres tomorrow night and we're rounding up a bunch of people to visit, eat pizza and watch the WWF pay-per-view, Armageddon. I'm starting to worry myself about this whole wrestling thing. After hearing that the match was to be a "Hell In The Cell" match, I glibly commented "Hell in a cell, my ass. I'm sure it's going to be nothing compared to the legendary Mankind/Undertaker matchup of a couple years ago.". Where the blazes did that come from? Apparently my trashy side is demanding more of my brain power... This is what I get for reading Mick Foley's biography...

                So tonight will probably be hanging out with Chris Brecheen and watching another of the ViewAskew films (probably Clerks) I'm a bit out of sorts, since I had psyched myself up for taking Jennifer out and making a big fuss of the birthday girl, but I'll get over it. Staying home and watching wrestling isn't quite the same as going out for a nice dinner - I was all set to take Jenn to El Morrocco, which features authentic grub (no forks allowed!) and live bellydancing, heh. But it's what Jenn wants, so we'll do it...

                Brace yourself, I'm about to rant about the D&D movie.

                You sure you want to read this?

                Really sure?

                You might want to read the review at Ain't It Cool, first.

                But I'm not really going to spoil much.

                I mean, what's there to spoil?

                So, fortified with a pint of Foster's at dinner and a pint of rum in my bag, I saw the Dungeons and Dragons movie, last night.
                Oh. My. God. What a heap of unmitigated horseshit!
                The effects were surprisingly bad - all the more so for being put against some very pretty sets and nice bits of proppage. The costuming was amusing too - the breastplate worn by the elven ranger was downright hilarious. I'm sure a lot of the nifty shiny things - dragon-controlling-scepters, funky leather armor and assorted baubles - will be featured in many a derivative AD&:D game for some time, yet.
                But the script and the acting were vile. I mean, really, really awful. I've not a seen so much forced melodrama since Darkman. Worse yet, Jeremy Irons, while chewing on every bit of scenery in sight, spitting it out, and chewing on it again, still out-acts everyone in the picture. At least one can be reasonably sure that he was intentionally camping it up. The rest of the cast, who knows? They certainly didn't demonstrate enough facility to be able to turn in a performance that awful deliberately. The only one who isn't over-emoting a storm is Thora whatsername (the Empress) who show's every sign of having a significantly-sized broom up her ass. It was a new definition for the word 'stiff' - which is surprising, given her reasonable effort in American Beauty.
                And the editor obviously had his mind on something other than his job, as the continuity is occasionally baffling. Now, I'm sure some scenes were cut out because they bombed with test audiences or somesuch, but it really made a dog's dinner out of the story - more so than the script alone. How did the party make peace with the Elven chick? How did Ridley find the rest of the party after getting the Nifty Red Dragon Thing? When in hell did the Empress make the transition from high-vantage point to on dragonback? Sigh...
                While I'm on the subject, I wasn't too keen on the photography, either, but it's clear the DP was told "Shoot for TV aspect-ratio. Video is where this movie is going to make it's money". The producers had best hope so, as word-of-mouth is going to kill this film in a week. Even gamers will take only so much crap.
                Now, the film knows it's awful. And if you go to the movie theater with that firmly in mind, you'll have a blast. I was shrieking with laughter whenever Jeremy Irons was on the screen, and giving it the MST3K treatment, otherwise. It was so awful, you can't help but laugh at it - and if you have an ingrained love of grade-Z films (like a lot of us do) then it's a hoot.
                I can't imagine how the talent could convince themselves they were in anything but a piece of shlock designed to see how many gamers will pay eight bucks to see a crappy fantasy movie - call it a dry run for Lord of the Rings, if you will. Sure, LotR will be a lot better, but the studios probably don't mind seeing how many bums-on-seats they can get for crap, and projecting their revenues from there.
                So, if you have a love of awful movies, or just otherwise an utter masochist, go to this film. Otherwise, wait for video. Of course, Alex and I have already agreed to buy it on DVD when it comes out. Whenever I'm in a crappy mood, watching a man who's been directed by Cronenberg (twice!) frothing at the mouth and snarling "You can't keep me from my destiny!" will be sure to make me laugh.

      ***

      December 11th

                Not much to say except that I'm tired, tired, tired.
                Sunday night, Jennifer, Adam, Alex M, Casey, Mary and James came by for Jenn's birthday get-together. We watched the mediocre WWF pay-per-view, chomped on pizza and just hung out. Aside from Dave and Jenn, I don't think anyone was that into the match, but it was a good excuse for getting together and making a bit of fuss of the birthday girl. Cake, etc was had by all. I'm broke until payday, of course, but it was worth it.
                When all was said and done, Alex and I didn't get to sleep until 1AM - the downside of having guests over on a weeknight.
                My tired-face at the office was augmented by my boss's own tired-face. He's been playing host to three different sets of guests for the past week - none of whom could be told to shove off and check into a hotel - topped off by his wife flying out to Hong Kong later tonight. Poor sod. He was wiped out, but he felt like he had to be the good-host all weekend, lest someone's feelings be hurt.
                So the day in the office was very quiet - but I got a lot of work done. I managed to dig up SEC filings on twenty companies, and finish off the VC contact database, barring a few hard-to-track-down entries. This is the 'quiet season' for M&A, so I'm not sure what I'm going to be doing until the Christmas break.
                If I'm extraordinarily lucky, Alex will shortly be hired by CarClub.com and he'll get the week off between Xmas and New Year's, too. Alex interviewed at CarClub during his job hunt, but they turned him down in favor of an internal candidate. Three weeks later they called him and and start wooing him again. It seems the internal candidate didn't really work out. Alex and I haven't had much in the way of vacations together - beyond long weekends - since the wedding, so a few days off during the cozy season would be very nice.

                Meanwhile, at the other end of the holiday-calmness-meter, my mother is getting ramped up for a holiday party at her house. Years ago (and I mean years) my parents would have Christmas parties at their house. My memories are pretty fuzzy, but as I recall, the parties were of the 'invite everyone you know, and tell them to bring food and drink' level of swankiness. The naughty movies and pina coladas playing in the den might have been a unique tradition, but I could be wrong. Needless to say, my parents operate on a whole different level of sophistication, now. And, of course, I've beens suckered into handing out appetizers during the evening. My mother is in high tizzy-mode - although given the likelihood of PG&E cutting power during the event, I don't blame her - and I'm not sure if Christopher is going to make it to Saturday with his Yuletide cheer intact...
                Alex and I won't be having our holiday party this year - after three years' running. The biggest factor is budget - those parties were fun, but expen$ive - and the other is that we would never get the house clean in time. Between those two situations, just forget any big events at Miskatonic Acres. Now, come summer, we've got a lovely backyard for barbecues, as long as we can keep the dog under control.
                Ugh, I've been typing this journal without my glasses and my eyes are about to cross....

      ***

      December 13th

                Well, you Americans wanted a dynastic presidency so damned bad, it looks like you've got one, now, blast it. I guess I should draw consolation from the fact that Dubya will be calling on his Dad's friends to help him out, rather than his own. Who needs Dubya's drunk-driving buddy as Secretary of the Interior?
                Yeah, it's a hypocritical thing to say. Cope.

                Well, the Baker-Mead good luck didn't hold. Carclub, once again are acting like they're going to fuck Alex over. Apparently the IT guy didn't tell the HR gal that he really liked the temp they had hired to fill the vacancy for the interim, so they won't be offering Alex a job, after all. I was so furious this morning when Alex told me. I was actually looking for CarClub's phone number, ready to call the aforementioned IT and HR persons and tell them what I thought of this totally unfuckingprofessional behavior. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed...
                Apparently the HR chick is still fighting to get Alex hired on - yeah right - and she's going to call him on Monday. Alex had told her - in a far sweeter tone than I would have - that unless she's got an offer letter in her hand, to go take a running jump. Alex was really looking forward to leaving his current job - and the possibility of a mutual vacation at Xmas had me pretty happy, too. Bah.
                No point stewing about it, I suppose. Alex's opinion of his current employer is softening, somewhat. He found out that he got hit with a bait-and-switch (from IT administrator/web guy to payroll technician) because the guy who recruited him told Alex that he was applying for the former job, but sold him to the boss for the latter. That recruiter is no longer with the company and, apparently, not missed at all. Meanwhile Grant, Alex's boss, is giving Alex some of the responsibilities he should have had - a new person is about to fill the position alex wanted - and is telling Alex that if a way to share the job can be devised, he's welcome to it. It's not quite what Alex wanted, but it's better than nothing.

                The Brecheens came over last night and I tried a new chicken recipe. It went over so well, I'll post it here. BTW, the portions are what I came up with to realistically feed five hungry people:
      Enough skinless, boneless chicken breasts to go around (2 per person, usually) 18 ounce jar of apricot jam 2 cups of Russian dressing 2 1-oz packets of instant onion soup mix

                In a saucepan, combine the jam, dressing and onion soup mix over medium heat until the ingredients combine. I added a quarter teaspoon of dry (English) mustard, a dash of cayenne and a good-sized twist of ground black pepper, but you can probably skip that. Dip the chicken breasts in the mixture until coated and place in a baking dish (2 quart or bigger). Pour sauce on chicken to cover. Throw away any excess sauce, since you've dipped raw chicken in it, you can't keep it. Bake in a 375 degree oven for 90 minutes, or until the chicken is done (reads 160 degrees on a meat thermometer/juices run clear). Serve with whatever.
                Tip: Scoop up a spoonful of sauce from the top of the dish when you pull it out of the oven and discard. That way, you'll catch a lot of the oil from the salad dressing (instead of getting it on your plate like I did). Stir up the sauce a bit to recombine, before serving.
                It was delish! I grabbed it from meals.com which has a pretty nifty recipe database.

                Tonight, since everyone had a long/busy/mindkilling day - Dave had to work in the warehouse, Alex was cranky over CarClub and I've just found out I'm taking over a lot of the bookkeeping in my office (aiye!) - it was a Chinese food and Dark-Forces-on-the-Playstation kind of day. Well, the boys in the house played video games. I just wrote this, instead.
                I had better enjoy the mindlessness while it lasts. Friday is Susan's holiday party, and Alex and I starting to get hit with the tizzy-effect from that. I still haven't done my Christmas shopping - and I don't know if I can afford Alex's pressie until I learn whether or not I'm getting a Christmas bonus - and it's about time I quit slacking on Aragon and get back into the groove with that. Whew!

                Gaming Musings

                To my immense surprise, Dave has resurrected his 7th Sea game. He's going to run a chapter this Saturday afternoon. Now that the Vodacce sourcebook is out, I've gotten some ideas for tweaking Elena's history and adding a few new 'crunchy bits'. Alex was deeply alarmed by my squealed request to Dave of "Oooh! Can Elena have a trained spider? Please! All the other fate witches have one! I just want a little one! I'll take good care of it, honest!". Alex dislikes spiders in general and he certainly doesn't like the idea of Elena having one.
                Mind you, I'm a little sceptical about how long the game is going to last - Dave 'restarted' this chronicle back in August, only to have it fade out after only one game. So I'm not going to write a voluminous amount of stuff for my character. Yet.

      ***

      December 18th

                Blah... I've been feeling uninspired these past couple of days, hence no update.

                Jenny-Lynn's birthday party was on Saturday night. FYI, Jenny-Lynn is Jennifer Brecheen, the nickname has been encouraged to avoid confusion with the other Jennifer B. It was very quiet - just Dave, James, Tony, Jason, Alex, me and Chris. Alex and I showed up with a bazillion leftovers from my mom's party. Fortunately, Jenny-Lynn is having a second get-together on Tuesday and I think the frozen appetizers will be eaten, then...
                Anyways... the party was very low-key. Maybe it was accumulated tiredness from the weekend so-far and the clusterfuck that was the 7th Sea game (see below), but I had a nasty case of bad vibes as soon as I walked into the Brecheen's apartment. Fortunately, a movie was slapped on - Fight Club - and by the time it was over, I had quietly downed a bottle of champagne and was feeling just about relaxed enough to talk for about twenty minutes before Alex and I made our excuses and went home. We were just too pooped to stay up all night. According to Chris, people did stay up all night and Jenny-Lynn - still newly acquainted with booze - had a lulu of a hangover the next day...
                Quick aside: Fight Club is another film I'm immensely glad I managed to miss when it first came out - much like how I feel about Heathers. They're both the kind of film that, had I seen them during theatrical release, I would have been inspired to take a machete to my school/office. Great films, the pair of them, but not precisely conducive to healthy thought - for short periods of time, at least.
                Catty as it sounds, I'm glad I didn't stay at the Brecheen's place. There's some weird energy going on in that household right now - much of which involves Dave, unfortunately - and I think that was contributing to my case of bad vibes. All concerned parties are working on it, though, so maybe things will get easier, soon. I've got my own horribly opinionated opinion about the matter, but even I know when not to throw gasoline on the fire - besides, I'm only getting one side of the story... Bah, I hate it when there's friction between friends.

                Sunday was Xmas shopping, which was reasonably painless as Alex and I slashed our giving-list, this year. Super-close friends, family, and that's all - most of whom have been covered by deft applications of gift certificates, Amazon purchases or, in a pinch, a trip to Cost Plus. We might even get away with spending less than $400 this year, yay! Which is good, because we forgot a couple of bills last month, oops...
                After much ferreting at the American Book Exchange and learning that a signed first edition of most Stephen King novels cost more than a used car, I found something for Alex. It won't be here by Christmas but, fortunately, my hunny-bunny understands. Apparently, his present to me is caught in the same delay. Heh. Meanwhile, we've decided our 'mutual' present will be a color printer. We were both thinking of getting it for the other one of us, as it was... Good thing we shared our ideas first, hm? Imagine the red faces after the boxes were unwrapped...
                I'm vexed because I couldn't think of some wonderfully creative, witty, affectionate gift for Alex. I mean, no matter how much he likes what I've gotten him, a book is, well, a book. Although I'm talking to a photographer friend of mine, BJ, about doing some 'ahem' pictures for Alex's benefit. Unsurprisingly, Alex likes that idea. But those pictures won't be taken until after the holidays, sigh...
                Fortunately, BJ can work wonders with Photoshop and he assures me he can make my thighs look two sizes smaller. And no-one else gets to see the pix. Those two factors alone make this route far more valuable than visiting a 'boudoir' photographer - and do you know how much those people charge? Throw in the cost of a hair stylist, a make up artist, a body waxing and some exciting underthings and, well, that signed Stephen King edition would be a better bargain...
                Oh, stop pulling faces. Ladies do this kind of thing all the time, otherwise there wouldn't be such a thriving industry built around it...

                Gaming Musings
                So, as mentioned, Dave's 7th Sea game was a bit of a dog's dinner. It was no fault of Dave's. Between some monumentally bad roleplaying decisions made by all of the players - with the possible exception of Laurel - and (I think) a bit of player weariness at a second reboot of the campaign, the game was one long hissy-fit. Four out of the five characters walked out on the party at least once - which constituted the majority of bad RP decisions. Characters refused to ease up and try to trust each other, information that should have been shared with the party wasn't until way too late, etc...
                I got so frustrated, I dragged Alex aside and chewed him out. I don't think I've ever told-off a fellow player before. sure, as a GM I've slapped the wrists of a few players - but this was a first. I would have gone after James, too, but that would have been like kicking a man when he's down...
                I was particularly sore at the way Alex's character, Ian DuMont, was behaving - mostly because I'm used to Alex being the unifier of any group he's within. Admittedly, Elena had given him a nasty shock earlier (prompting his walkout on the party) but, hell, he asked a Fate Witch to prove her power. What else is she going to do but dig up his deepest-held secret and whisper it in his ear?
                So, I chewed Alex out, and got chewed back for playing a not-too-approachable character, myself. I partially agreed with him but also countered with first, Fate Witches aren't known for being easily approachable - and, in my opinion, I was playing Elena nicer than type dictated. Second, it wasn't like I - or any of us, it turned out - had much to build upon in terms of trustworthiness or approachability. This is a problem with trying to throw together a 'cold' party that is otherwise unconnected.
                Laurel's character, Sigrid, scolded us into some semblance of good behavior, but only after the whole group nearly gave up on each other. Talk about leaving something almost too late. Even then, I sensed that the characters weren't feeling too inclined to heed her advice. I dunno, maybe the holidays were getting to us, but we were all acting like jerks and fucking up what would have otherwise been a good game.
                What really makes me wince is wondering what Dave thought of all that bloody-mindedness. I know that he pretty much gave up on us about three-quarters of the way through... I'll be surprised if there's a second episode to this campaign. And if there is, we had better get drunk, first. Hell, drinking always works as a bonding exercise when the characters do it...

      ***

      December 19th

                So, the inspiration fairy came by last night and kicked me the teeth, just to remind me that she's still around. God, I love her so.
                Said inspiration is nothing major, but enheartening. I've got the week between Xmas and New Year's off, so it occurred to me that - instead of/in addition to madly sewing up a storm as I had planned - I could get out of the house and do a couple of things that have been on my mind for, oh, a year or so. It's time for a day of photo-safari in San Francisco! I know, it would be far more exotic if I wasn't planning to do this in the middle of winter, but, dammit, if I don't strike while the iron is hot, it'll get...um...cold.
                My digital camera will be jim-dandy for most of the mundane places I want to hit - did you know there are some very funky alleys in the financial district? But I've got to figure out a way to politely beg/borrow/steal my dad's still-camera away from him for a day. I feel a black-and-white urge coming on, and his beloved Canon rocks and not just because it's built-in lightmeter hasn't steered me wrong, yet. Which means I've got to get a decent camera bag together - and find a trustworthy place to develop B&W film, etc...
                I'm planning on doing it late in the week - after I get sick of sewing and being at home. I can snap pictures all morning, drag Alex out to lunch (as he's still at PRG, boo) and then take some more. In theory, it sounds blissful. It should be worth it. I hope. I mean, it would just suck if I hauled my ass into the city for a day and then couldn't dredge up any inspiration...
                This week's madness will be another trip to the fabric store - Lacis for patterns and the discount-house for even more fabric, although that latter isn't certain. I've got nine yards of red doe-suede looming in my kitchen, after all. Alex has promised me a new sewing machine for Christmas but, honestly, I'll settle for getting the current one fixed, if it can be done before Christmas and for less than $100... Besides, a new sewing machine will totally outclass the presents I got him the other day. When did gift-giving get so bloody competitive? Oh wait, it always has been, I just never cared before.

                Read Bruno, it's worth it. Although swallowing the archives in one gulp is not recommended, unless you like huge dollops of existential self-questioning that will, sooner or later, invoke a strong sense that your own life is irretrievably pointless... As you might guess, I just read something like three-year's worth of the strip in a single gulp during a dull morning at the office.

                Drat, domain names are getting so hard to find. So much for buying starkitten.com for Jennifer as a goofy Xmas present. Some bloody design company is already sitting on it. Drat.
                Thinking of weird randomness and gifts, someone blasted through Rough Cut and passed on a contact address for Debi Nickel. Debi was a buddy of mine in high-school who got cursed with Johanna's 'lose everything' syndrome in regards to her e-mail address. I've been kicking myself about that one for about five years, believe it or not. I liked Debi. When I was 17, I thought she was the epitome of cool - she had style, she read Jack Kerouac, and - by the standards of suburban New England - listened to some very groovy music. I swear, the fact that she was the only friend of mine who also dug Adam Ant had nothing to do with it...
                But the thought of trying to reestablish contact now freaks me out a little. I mean, it's been a long time since we last talked. Have I just managed to turn into some nostalgic geek who's clinging on to a rose-tinted vision of the past? Hm, probably not, my memory of my life prior to, oh, 1997 is anything but rose-tinted. Never mind the fact that the woman might not want to talk to me - if, indeed, I've e-mailed the correct person.
                I guess this falls under 'burn-that-bridge-when-I-cross-it'.

                I'm thinking about caving in and getting my next tattoo about twenty pounds earlier than I intended. Sort of a holiday pressie to myself. It's not going anywhere particularly stretchy - over my left kidney - but I would really prefer to grit my teeth and lift some weights before then. Then again, given that I'm not going to do it until after I do those photos with BJ - a healing tattoo is not an erotic sight - so I suppose I could just shut my yap and adopt an exercise routine... Oh, who am I kidding? I've hardly got the willpower to clean out the catbox, let alone enough to lose weight...
                The tattoo? Oh, just a circular Celtic knot, two strands, each strand a variant of Ouroboros. It's a mixture of symbols that I would usually avoid, but I'm rather taken by this one. Still, no rush.

                If I hear one more Old Navy "Item of the Week" ad, I'm gonna hunt down every single marketing-guy responsible for it and pull their brains out through their eyelids.

                The caffeinne charge is ebbing. I'm going to go take a nap under my desk or something...

      ***

      December 20th

                So, I've just had one of those talks with a friend that tend to leave one slightly enlightened but very tired. See, there's been a lot of unspoken conflict - along with the accompanying innuendo and conclusion-jumping - in these parts, lately. As usual, just as one thinks upon how lovely and quiet things have been lately, it all goes to hell again.
                Where to start? There was a dustup several months ago, involving myself, Dave and Alex. After much difficulty, the worst of it was dealt with. I thought. Now, it seems that the matter wasn't quite resolved and weird tentacles of bad karma are flapping all over the place and getting entangled with other friendships.
                Alex and I are friends with Dave - current stress none withstanding. Alex and I are friends with Jenny-Lynn and Chris Brecheen. Dave is friends with Jenny-Lynn. Got that? Now, it seems that Chris is a little upset by how much time Dave and Jenny-Lynn are spending together. He vented to Alex and me about it, to which we trotted out a sympathetic response plus the ever-relevant question of "Have you told her how you feel?". Last we heard, Jenny-Lynn and Chris were starting to talk things out, but there was still some bumpy roads ahead.
                Today, James and I were talking on IM, and I commented about how I felt Dave has been pushing himself too hard, lately. He's come down sick as a dog with something and I know stress has a lot do to with it. In addition to (apparently) unresolved stress between him and us, Dave's been dealing with some upsets at work and the fact that Alex and I have told him that we expect him out of the house by January 31st. James mentions the fact that some things still need to worked out between the members of Miskatonic Acres - a surprise to me - and makes some comment about "Dave not feeling safe in his own home." What the fuck?
                Alright, that last turned out to be an opinion of James' but, by the time that was made clear, a whole bunch of other worms were crawling out of the can. James scolded all three of us for being 'unapproachable' and suggested that we weren't being honest with each other and that we're all too hard to approach when things get problematic. What the fuck?
                Oh, I'll admit I can be the Defensive Queen at times - although I think I'm getting better about that every day, but I've never considered myself that difficult to approach. I know, I know, we can hardly understand how we are perceived by others, but James' statement really surprised me. Of course, I was only too ready to agree that Alex can be hard to know at times and Dave is quite the brick wall when it comes to sharing and resolving issues.
                But I didn't even know we had issues left. Right until James asked me "What did you say to Chris Brecheen to make him distrust Dave?". What the fuck???
                Oh great, did that question come from Dave, or Jenny-Lynn? It sure as hell didn't come just from James. Does this mean Dave and or Jenny-Lynn believes that I'm out to ruin their friendship? To his credit, James admitted that he thought character-assassination wasn't quite my style, but that doesn't tell me what Dave is thinking right now. Honestly, Chris has his reasons to be wary of Dave - all of variable validity. But that's something between Dave and Chris, right? How on earth did James and I get sucked into this?
                Of course, I'm wondering how on earth to bring this up with Dave - once he's feeling well - without causing him to either stamp off or blow up (or both). See 'unapproachable', above. Sigh.
                Then, just to add a little more gasoline to the fire. James tells me that - in his opinion - Alex believes himself to be superior to everyone in our social clique in general and that he treats James, in particular, accordingly. My rather tart response was that maybe James' fragile self-esteem has a lot more to do with that forming that opinion than Alex's behavior probably went down like a lead balloon, but James was good enough to hide it - albeit along with a promise to talk to Alex about it before he gets irritated again. I should take some happiness in these small triumphs, I guess.
                Gack, it makes me wonder what James thinks of my treatment of him, but I really wasn't feeling brave enough to ask.
                I'm just getting tired of all this. Alex and Dave had a long talk about their respective attitudes just a few days ago, but it seems that it's done no lasting good, which makes me want to grind my teeth in frustration. Meanwhile, Alex is still dealing with issues from the Great Unpleasantness and I'm wearing myself out trying to be supportive and help him untangle some emotional snarls. Anything less would rush us back to square one... I feel like I'm totally caught in the middle with the Chris/Jenny-Lynn/Dave thing - and will continue to be entangled until that gets resolved - and that rather commits me to being Reasonable Chick. The alternative - Spectator/Disassociated Chick - is not the kind of thing friends do to each other.
                But I'm bloody tired of it. When I do get to take an emotional bath? When can I throw up my hands and say "That's it, I'm done! Will all parties still feeling unsatisfied please seek professional help or otherwise get out of my frickin' hair!" and have a tantrum of my own? When do I get to be jealous, spiteful, greedy and gossiping? It's sure as hell all I'm seeing right now.
                I'm really trying to not contribute to the current sea of problems. As soon as someone starts kvetching at me, I ask them to bring it up with the person they're actually upset with. If a friend feels down, I try to bring them up while helping them think of a more permanent resolution beyond a quick attaboy talk. If a person has a certain perception or opinion of me, I try to be open and available to listen to them and understand what the matter is, and fix it - if they approach me about it.
                Well, it seems I've been a stinking failure in all areas and it's only the fact that walking away from this situation will make things worse that has stopped me from taking the phone off the hook, throwing my computer out of the window and telling everyone I know to leave me alone until, oh, Easter.
                Icing on the cake #2 - and this is probably contributing to my crankies - I discovered Alex had broken a promise he made to me in the aftermath of the Great Dustup. He had found my private journal - a long story unto myself - and, after reading one entry (which upset him badly) he promised not to read it again. Last night, I noticed the site had been bookmarked and not by me. Hm. Sites don't bookmark themselves - well, not without some sneaky DHTML - so I asked Alex why he had saved the URL of a site he had promised not to return to. He hemmed and hawed a bit but, to be blunt, I had caught him without a leg to stand on. He told me he 'only went back once' and I suppose I might as well believe him - although it's a little hard to do.
                At this point, it's hardly worth getting angry about, as there's hardly anything in there that will upset him more than the entry he stumbled across (always clear your internet cache, kids) but he had promised that he wouldn't go back there. I need the knowledge that no-one I know is reading those words so I can write honestly about some things that might upset the subjects, if they knew they were featured in the entry. As any journal keeper knows, friends only like reading about themselves when you have something nice to say. But I digress. So now I'm wondering if I should pack up and move the site again, or keep going at the current location, keeping in mind the nagging little doubt that will keep suggesting that maybe Alex will succumb to temptation. The fact that I had already suspected that he would return to the site - the guy's only human and curiosity would eat me alive, in the same situation - isn't much of a help. I'll probably just stay at the same site. I sincerely doubt I'll ever shock him quite like I did before, so what would the harm be? Sigh...

                On the much-better-news front, I did write the correct Debi yesterday. And she wrote back! And she was glad to hear from me! Yay! Debi is living in Providence with a guy she adores and making a living as a TV producer - a documentary by her company will be airing on Nova in February. Oh drat, I think I'm jealous - but in a warm and fuzzy way. She gave me a compact summary of the past few years at her end, and I sent her several hundred words of drivel in return. A phone call is being planned. Double yay!

      ***

      December 22nd

                I'm such a dog. I may whine and grumble, but a decent meal and a good night's sleep and I can bounce back from almost anything. Thursday was spent pretty much waiting to see if anything else was going to blow up, and apologizing to James who apparently had asked that I keep our conversation about Chris/Dave a private thing. Oops. Ah well.
                Chris and Dave went out and had a long talk last night. I've no idea what was said, but Chris tells me I need not worry about "Unwarranted distress" on his part. Of course, that makes me wonder about warranted distress, but I guess I'll burn that bridge when we get to it. I'll just be happy if Chris has been reassured that Dave is not setting out to steal his wife's affections. Late-breaking news tells me that Chris has been reassured, so I guess I can get to sleep tonight.
                Frighteningly enough, I think I thrive on this melodrama - just not as efficiently as I used to.

                Yes, I've moved the Ramblings again. Everything is now parked on skaro.com and will stay here until I get sick of paying $20/month for web-hosting. The reason? Laziness. I was sick of having to use Peopleweb's no-FTP interface to upload files, and this URL is much quicker to type. I took the chance to fix some more broken URLS in the archives, although some links are going to forever point to features on the old Tripod site - which is why I've left about 25MB of old material and half a million 'forwarding pages' in place. Sigh - I never should have been lazy. If I had just gone with a shared-server host the first time around, none of this would be necessary...

                I wasn't able to do anything to mark Yule, beyond a few peaceful thoughts at sunset. Work piled up on me, so I couldn't split for the beach as I had planned. I actually considered a festive Yuletide hole-in-the-head (another ear piercing) but I had to decide against that as I don't want a ring in my ear when I do photos with BJ next month. Three weeks post-piercing would be too dang soon to remove the jewelry. I'm glad my tattoo artist isn't close to my office otherwise who knows what I would have done... Hmm.... New tattoo...
                Thinking of photos with BJ, I've decided to go whole hawg with the prep. No, no, no, not liposuction. Waxing! Although I draw the line at some gory details in this journal, I'll just say that it's a neckline-to-ankles kinda deal. However, I am not going for a "Brazilian" bikini wax. Aiyee! My regular waxing-lady quoted me a very good price (less than $150) and she's willing to accommodate my work schedule, so I won't have to slide out of the office too early on the appointed day. If there's no journal entry on the 12th of January, it'll be because I'm still smarting from the process. Weirdly enough, I'm kinda looking forward to it. I blame it on my adolescent adoration of Nagel paintings (shut up, I know I'll never be that thin. Hush) Although I think Alex is a little creeped out by the waxing-thing... Silly lad. He's not getting it done...

                God help me and Alex. We've got to finish our Xmas shopping tomorrow. We're getting up at 7AM and are going to do our best to avoid the crowds. Yeah, I know, a foolish thought. We've just got to pick up presents for Lance, Melissa and Danielle. And Dave. And maybe something else for the Brecheens. Aw, hell...

                Gaming Musings
                I bet you thought I had forgotten all about this section, didn't you?
                Alex will be pulling a Star Wars game out of his ear tonight, and I'm feeling optimistic. If nothing else, I think James, Jennifer and I are all feeling a bit trite about what we did to Dave's 7th Sea game last week and, as a result, we'll probably be on our best behavior. I, of course, am totally easy to please, because I'm playing Yahnna again, yay! To my immense relief, the group did not roll their eyes and make dark mutterings about undue-influence over the GM. Well, if they did, they didn't do it within my hearing.

      ***

      December 23rd

                Today was...creepy. Alex and I braced ourselves for a hellish day of finishing our holiday shopping. The large amount of wine we knocked back on Friday night resulted in our sleeping late - until 9AM - and we were convinced that the toy store was going to resemble something out of Apocalypse Now.
                Far from it. The toy store was a little crowded, but nothing at all like the Christmas-Eve crush I remember from last year. It was quite bearable and Alex and I had no trouble picking up some rollerblades for Danielle and an N64 game for Chad (I hope he likes Spiderman). We also picked up a big, bright blue plush frog, whom I named Kit - for Christmas (of course). I can sense that that frog might be instrumental in keeping me sane in the next couple of days, but I digress...
                Following the toy store, Alex and I went to Target for wrapping paper and a few things for the brunch we're going to host on Christmas morning. Same story: a little crowded, but totally sane. By now, it's close to lunch time and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Where are the crowds? Are they all - for some godforsaken reason - waiting for tomorrow?
                Break for lunch. Drop off sewing machine at repair shop, learn that it's troubles are totally fixable, for fifty bucks, we can pick it up on Tuesday - yay!!
                Go to grocery store. Now there's some sign of holiday crowding - but only at the checkout lanes... Huh?
                I was totally baffled. The roads were clear, except for within one block of the mall, which is far better than usual. Did everyone know something I didn't? Was there something amazingly good on TV or something? Whatever, it was damn' strange. Not that I'm really complaining, as it made running errands a lot easier... But I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop...

                Gaming Musings
                As suspected, everyone was a bit more well-behaved at Alex's Star Wars game, last night. Yahnna was brought into the group after the minimum of posturing - hey, she had to show a bit of character during negotiations. She might be a slightly-more-mellow version of the character, but she's nobody's fool...
                Apparently Dave is thinking about another reboot of the 7th Sea game. I suppose I can sit still for it, given how I contributed to the last meltdown, but it's becoming a bit tiring. Maybe we should just accept the fact that, for some unknown reason - our characters are failing to gel correctly. Wait, I'm mistaken. We gelled fine during the first incarnation of the game, and even did alright during the first (and only) game of the second incarnation. It was the third time around that proved 'orrible...

      ***

      December 26th

                Compared to some holidays I've heard about, my Christmas was a breeze. Phew.
                The eve was spent at my parents' house. Melissa asked to be invited - apparently because she was sooooopremely jealous that Dan got to see the Mead house last year. Fortunately, my mother had enough food on hand (when does she not?), so Alex, Dan, Melissa and I gathered at the former homestead for Cornish game hens, smoked salmon, and Christmas pudding. Yummers! I've got a sinking feeling that whatever bar Melissa had for 'nice sit-down dinners' has been raised by a couple of feet - although I doubt she would believe me if I told her that my mom was pulling out all the stops, honest!
                As usual, gift-giving was lopsided. I gave my parents a DVD (The Court Jester) and a gift certificate to Macy's. My parents gave me the Stanley Kubrick boxed-set. D'oh! Still, I'm utterly tickled to have the set and I intend to have Dr. Srangelove on constant replay while I'm sewing this week.
                Christmas day was in two parts. The first was brunch at Miskatonic Acres. A good thing I followed my mother's example and bought too much food, as the Brecheens decided to cancel on their family visit to Sacramento (Jenny-Lynn was still getting over something) and they visited us, instead. Jennifer and James visited, also, and we hung out munching on bacon and eggs and assorted brunchy thing. It was low-key, but that was a good thing. I wasn't feeling up for madcap holiday-ventures, anyways.
                However, all that peace came to an end when Alex and I, leaving the guests with Dave, headed out to Melissa and Lance's place for dinner. Now, I like Melissa, Lance and their kids, they're a hoot. But these holiday dinners at the Halsebo place tend to involve three or four people from Alex's side of the family (ie, Alex, Dan and Melissa's kids from her previous marriage) and about a dozen from Lance's side of the family. And, if I'm not mistaken, some of 'em are practically strangers to Lance, too. I'm told this is a side effect of living in Lance's mother's house - one gets to see a lot of her family.
                So, there are about ten adults who are nigh-strangers to me and six more kids running around. Now, a couple of these children are as cute as buttons but, on Christmas, they're about as well behaved as wild pigs. Overtired wild pigs, at that. Chad and Danielle wisely retreated to their brand-new Nintendo 64 for the duration, while one of the fifteen year-olds declared she didn't feel well (the jury's still out about the validity of that illness) and napped in another room. Smart kids.
                Meanwhile, I'm in the living room wondering how much trouble I would get into if I scolded the boy yelling "Pass the meat" before the food had even reached the table. Answer: quite a bit. I snapped at the end of dinner and pulled out the 'English Nanny Voice' while said child was slapping a slice of ham against the picture window (please, dear lord, let me have daughters). All I said was one word: "Don't" accompanied by a patented Paddington-like extra-hard-stare. It took the little tyke a few seconds to realize that I meant it, but he quit rubbing his dinner on the window and sat down. Apparently the little dear's mother was giving me an extra-hard stare of her own in the meantime. Well, if she was mad, she should have kept a closer eye on her boy, no? Oh, before y'all start telling me off for being intolerant, this child is close to five years' old and surely that's old enough to know that windows and dinner don't mix? Meanwhile, Emily - three years his junior - is being positively angelic, although I wouldn't bet on the probability that her noodles didn't end up in her hair at some point...
                So yeah, dinner was a bit tiring. Melissa looked like she was ready to run away from home. Alex and I offered to spirit her away, but Melissa felt honor-bound to remain on the scene, poor lass. Alex and I felt no such compulsion, and we fled like rats off the proverbial sinking ship as soon as the dinner dishes were cleared.
                We got home to find the brunch guests still hanging out with Dave. By now, bagels and eggs had been changed for Chinese food, but otherwise the scene was as we had left it. Alex and I hung out for a bit, watched Creature Comforts and then, realizing how pooped we were, booted everyone out. I was ready to go to bed at 7 o'clock but I knew I would regret that, so I watched The Nightmare Before Christmas and then I zonked out.
                Poor Alex. He wanted to go to sleep, he really did. But he's been bitten by the inspiration monster. Christmas morning, I thought he was having a bad dream, so I woke him up. Far from it being bad, Alex ran for his notebook and quickly scribbled down six pages of notes - plus illustrations. Apparently this dream had all the hallmarks of being a story or - with tweaking - a 7th Sea game. Hey, that's great, I think to myself. Alex so rarely remembers his dreams, for him to have a doozy is kinda nice.
                Off and on throughout the day, Alex was writing down bits that came to him, or fleshing out details. Before coming to bed, he was downloading pictures of actors' that he was mentally casting into the roles he envisioned - go figure. So, he finally pulls the blankies up at 11PM - after writing another half-a-dozen pages of ideas. He hasn't got an ending yet, he mutters, but he supposes he can keep writing until one comes to him. I sleepily warn him about the dangers of that technique before zuzzing out, myself. About a half-hour later, I turn over and wake Alex up. "You've done it again," he says, reaching for his notebook. "I've got the ending, now." Aye, carumba! He's happy as a clam, and I'm tickled too. Now he's got an inkling of what I go through when I'm really chewing on a story! Another couple of days of this, and he'll be talking in his sleep, too!

      ***

      December 27th

                So, I spent a lovely day in the city today, playing tourist and doing some photo-safari, as I had promised myself. I was all ready to write up a loving journal entry, complete with pix and notes jotted hither and yon across the city. Then I discovered that the blasted disk-adapter I use to get the data from the camera to the computer has gone walkabout. Thirty minutes of tearing the study apart failed to discern its location.
                Well, drat.
                So, in lieu of aforementioned gooey journal-entry, I'm off to keep looking for this blighted bit of hardware. The dam' thing cost a piece of change and I'm not about to let it go easily. Grr, mutter...

      ***

      December 31st

                I still haven't found the missing thingummy for my camera - grr snarl - but I'm going to stop sulking long enough to do the obligatory year-end journal entry.
                Routine summary:
      • Alex finished his time with the military - good thing
      • I left Modem Media - good thing
      • I realized that I'm never going to write the Great American Screenplay and should be happy with what I am, a hobbyist - sorta good thing - in terms of lessened frustration
      • I totally failed to lose weight. - bad thing

                It peeves me to say it, but 2000 had to be The Year of Inertia for me. Any changes that occurred were because of circumstances somewhat beyond my control... I had nothing to do with Alex getting shut of the Air Force. Rick did a helluva lot more to recruit me to Intelligent Capital than I did to seek him out. The revelation about my writing was, essentially, a moment of sartori in the shower. And my stubborn refusal to change my diet is why I still have a hell of a time finding pants that fit. Granted, the overall balance is positive, but not a helluva lot to cheer about... All I can do is grit my teeth and try to use my general sense of disgust to try to see things through a little better, in future.
                Speaking of disgust as a motivating factor, I went shopping for lingerie today - for the photo-shoot with BJ. Bah. What's it take for a padded broad to find a pretty teddy, huh? Even Frederick's of Hollywood was a total washout - and I went to two different stores.
                Victoria's Secret gave me a moment of false hope by having one 36DD Miracle Bra in stock. My word, this is a scrap of lace and elastic that does not muck about. I tried it on and, with a Wonder-Woman-like-flash, I suddenly had the chest of a Gen-13 character. Yowza! Alas, 36 inches was a bit tight, and a 38 D/DD was not to be found in the store. I went online, only to discover that Victoria's Secret disavows all knowledge of making a miracle bra in anything larger than 38 single-D. I'm tempted to go back to the mall tomorrow and find that 36DD and just swear off liquids for 24 hours before the photo-shoot...
                Disgusted, I went to Frederick's of Hollywood online, to discover that the only push-up full-figure bra they offer adds a cup size. What the fuck? Why would a DD cup want to get even bigger? Whatever. I found a few things that might work and, after dropping a fortune on shipping (their cheapest option was $22!) I'm hoping they've got a very generous return policy...
                Of course, if I dig through my house, I could find two corsets, two cinchers, various ohmigodboots and - just maybe - a gee string or two. So I suppose I can make things work out alright... But I really did need some prettier knickers, and I saw an awfully nice looking bra at Fredericks...and I can always return the other things I picked out...
                I betcha didn't know this entry was gonna be all about my underwear, did ya? Love it while it lasts, fetishists, as I'm not making a hobby out of this...

                I've got nothing planned for the New Year. The Brecheens are going to come over and hang out. We might go out for dinner. We might not. It's all fun and games at Miskatonic Acres, I tell ya.
                I just finished making the Claire MacCaddel Cloister Dress (a Folkwear pattern and one I reccomend for being easy-peasy, just pay attention while sewing the gathers) only to discover that it's too long in the torso! Drat! However, I'm pretty certain it'll fit Jenny-Lynn quite well, so if it does, she can have it. Fortunately, the pattern includes marks for shortening the torso pieces, so I'm alright for future incarnations - and with a total sewing time of something like four hours, future incarnations there will be... I'm just bummed I used ten-dollar-a-yard fabric to find out it was too long... Jenny-Lynn can have it for nada because I've got a nasty feeling it'll bleed when it's cleaned, so she'll have to take care to wash is separately from her other things, in cold water... So it might not be much of a gift...

                Alex, meanwhile, has been eaten alive by the inspiration-pixie, still - which is one of the reasons I've not been near the computer for three days. Really, I'm dead chuffed that he's feeling so creative and having such fun with the project. Meanwhile, I'm reading whatever piratical/naval history books he isn't referring to while writing, and they're pretty neat... Given that the story has become a 7th Sea tale, I'm encouraging Alex to drop a line to the publishers of the RPG, if his first draft turns out well. They've not mentioned any plans to publish fiction based on their RPG, but it never hurts to make an inquiry and offer a proposal letter. Alex is a much better writer than he gives himself credit for, methinks. Heh heh heh. Whaddya mean 'vicarious living'?
                The denial of goof-off time has forced me to stick with my sewing projects, too. Tomorrow I'll probably make the second incarnation of the aforementioned Folkwear pattern and, possibly, a pair of pants, too. I'm also watching my way through the Kubrick DVD set - yesterday was Barry Lyndon - although that can be more harm than help, as I've got a nasty tendency to pin bits of my pattern-in-progress to bits other than those the instructions have indicated - and then not noticing until after I've sewn 'em down. Drat...
                The Brecheens are due momentarily. Happy new year, and all that...


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