It’s Furious Balancing

Happy New Year.

First things first.

Well, it’s been a while now since the Iraqis hanged Saddam Hussein. One day? Two? In any event, I’ve been avoiding the coverage of it, and the photos on Yahoo’s Most Popular, u.s.w.(1), but it’s hard NOT to see something about it on the Internet news.

I have no doubt whatsoever that Hussein was evil and guilty of atrocious war crimes, but the idea of celebrating the execution of a man nauseates me. In my mind, given Saddam’s megalomania, it would have been a far worse punishment to keep him alive for the rest of his natural life, in an environment that kept him from the public eye — in an environment guaranteed to keep him out of sight and as obscure and voiceless as possible — than it would be to kill him outright.

But people don’t think about these things. Most people have the moral development of your average three-year-old playing in the sandbox — “Well, Timmy hit me so I get to hit him back. That’s only fair.”

I’m tempted to quote Gandhi, but I’m sure I’m mis-quote. It’s something along the lines of “An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.”

So, for all of you people of arrested moral development celebrating the killing of a man, let it be known that I’m of the firm opinion that you not only do you have an IQ that hovers around the same digits as room temperature (Fahrenheit or Celsius, your choice), you’re about as emotionally and intellectually advanced as your average slime mold. I’ve known plates deeper than you.

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(1) u.s.w. Und so weiter. It’s et cetera in German. I get tired of typing etc. all the time.

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To hell with the real world. Let’s have a cute cat picture. Love you, Tom.

Yes, that is a rubber vulture. He’s poised atop my hpdeskjet to the left of my desk. I’m quite fond of him; his name is “Edgar.” This was one of the (many) Christmas presents I received from He Who Swings Cats By Their Tails, and I think it’s my favorite. I mean, I love the complete boxed set of Patrick O’Brien Aubrey-Maturin novels, and both H.P. Lovecraft reference books, but those are pretty tame compared to a 17-inch rubber vulture.

This ranks right up there with my (liquid latex) corpse head from a few Christmases back (visible in the “messy desk” pic on December 23rd). He had that one shipped to his office.

He Who: Look what I got my wife for Christmas (displays corpse head).
Innocent co-worker: …
He Who: She’s gonna LOVE this!
Innocent co-worker: (flees break room)

All in all, we had a pretty good, quiet Christmas. I’m not supposed to blog about the Christmas turkey. Let’s just say that We’ve Made More Expensive Mistakes and that Cooking a Turkey is a Learning Process. Most of it was edible. The green bean casserole and mashed potato gratin were very good, and we have leftovers. I might make the turkey tetrazinni today. Or not. I’m feelin’ mighty lazy and it’s my last day of a four-day weekend. Doing laundry and sewing a button back on the winter coat might be the extent of my “work” for the day. All else is play.

We took a bottle of Dom Perignon over to Jim and Terri’s for Christmas Eve to share with them and Christopher and Shannon. The brochure packed with the bottle was interesting. I would love to scan it in, in order to show the photos, but I’ll just titillate you with the text for now:

Dom Perignon matured in the champagne cellars of Epernay for seven years to express its mysterious magnetism: intense, sophisticated sensuality, and a seamless, creamy flow, for the first sensation to the last, that seems to go on forever…

On the palate, the sensation is one of diving into a wave: a satiny textures curls and unfurls on the palate, embracing and caressing it. An instant of weightlessness, matter vanishes, the finish vibrates, the taste buds are aroused by a controlled ardour. The persistance is remarkable with just the slightest undertone of tartness (citrus zest and buds).

I don’t know about you, but I feel like I need to smoke a cigarette after that.

Once again, gratuitous cat pictures. I do have two other cats in this house. Really. Thomas is just the most photogenic.

Merry Christmas, everyone. I’m certain I’ll add more to this entry later on. Right now I’m waiting for He Who Fixes Computers to wake up (and I’m on my 3rd cup of coffee with Bailey’s Mint Chocolate Irish Cream liqueur).

The green bean casserole and the mashed potato gratin are pre-assembled and in the ‘fridge. The Husband needs to make the cornbread stuffing and get the turkey (the real turkey, not the furry, orange one in the box) in the oven.

Okies. He Who Does His Own Laundry (thank you) and I went to do our pre-Christmas feast grocery shopping(1), and I found the most glorious hot pink roses. I love hot pink. If you’re going to have anything pink, I believe it should be aggressively PINK. None of those wimpy pastels! But I digress.

So, I take a photo of my aggressively pink roses, and, of course, it’s not perfect. It’s far too bright, in fact. Now, any normal blogging-type person would just open the pic in PaintShop Pro and doll it up a bit to make it look like it WASN’T nuclear winter outside. I do not, and never have, fallen into any category that has “normal” as a descriptive adjective in it. I’m more the “incompetent” blogging type person, or the “fumbling” blogging-type person, or the “run it up the flag pole and see how it fits” blogging-type person. Most definitely the latter.

Yes, I know where the “Colors > Adjust > Brightness/Contrast” button is, but it seems to have a mind of its own. So I present my overexposed, nuclear-winter, hot pink roses. I think they’re lovely.

It’s not that it’s exactly “messy.” “Cluttered,” “overwhelmed,” and “burdened,” but not messy. Not really. I can find things. I’m comfortable. The printer is within reach. I’m damn happy I have a flat screen monitor.

This is where I spend my evening and weekend hours. I live in this one particular spot more than anyplace else (work and sleeping don’t count — it’s not like I have a choice about working or sleeping). I blog, mod, play solitaire, surf, game, and shop here. My little corner of the universe. Mine. Mine. Mine(1)

It’s the first day of a four-day weekend for me. The list of things to do include:

1. Make mint brownies (currently in the oven). [EDIT: They didn't turn out. The brownie part is okay, but the Paul Newman brand mint patties didn't melt right and seem to have solidified. Next time, I buy the completely fake candy drowning in hydrogenated vegetable oil, high fructose corn syrup and edible petroleum products. It's sort of like Velveeta cheese -- not "real" but the "real" stuff doesn't melt properly.]

2. Wrap Christmas presents for Terri and her family (The Husband and I are going over there tomorrow to swill champagne and make merry).

3. Work on the Cats of Ulthar. Dr. King said he and his son would love to beta test it, so I would like to get it wrapped up by sometime in January.

4. Make the Christmas dinner menu and prepare a shopping list. So far it’s roast turkey, mashed potato gratin, corn bread stuffing and green bean casserole. I should also plan on leftovers (turkey tetrazinni, turkey and brie toasted sammiches, etc.) Yes, I’m going back On Plan in January. Shut up and pass the gravy.

(1) At this particular moment, this little corner of the universe is covered with soda water bottlecaps, lemon and sage hand cream with no cap on it whatsoever, recipes for green bean casserole, a crumpled envelope with book suggestions from one of the attorney’s wives, and hand-written notes for my Morrowind mod with cryptic references to “gravedust, bonemeal, ectoplasm” and the dreaded “plural possessive.”

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And just in case anyone was wondering about all the cat references in this blog:

You Are: 0% Dog, 100% Cat

You are are almost exactly like a cat. You’re intelligent, independent, and set on getting your way. And there’s no way you’re going to fetch a paper for anyone!

Are You More Cat or Dog?

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Extra Added Goodness for Your Reading Enjoyment:

It’s Furious Balancing is taken from the lyrics of R.E.M’s song “Daysleeper.” The song appeals to me since I’m an insomniac/night owl with a serious Internet habit.

I cried the other night
I can’t even say why
Fluorescent flat caffeine lights
It’s furious balancing.

I’m the screen, the blinding light
I’m the screen, I work at night.

I see today with a newsprint fray
My night is colored headache grey
Don’t wake me with so much.

This is the amazing, totally rockin’ Christmas tree ornament that my friend got for me at Bronner’s. She told me that her husband was teasing her about buying ornaments for her co-workers, and that they were “dorky.” I don’t think “dorky” was the exact word he used, but that’s the general idea.

Needless to say, He Who Takes Out the Garbage (i.e., The Husband) and I love this ornament. It looks a quite a lot like The Orange One. In fact, it’s even more orange than The Orange One, if you can believe it. Thomas, however, doesn’t have a Santa hat. He does have a mouse hat, though.

I should be careful that these photos don’t find there way into the hands of PETA or the ASPCA. I’m sure I would be found guilty of cat torturing.

Working hard on “The Cats of Ulthar.” I almost have finished Joshi’s quest (just need to put the script on the book of poetry and update a journal entry or two).

Here we are, ladies and gents, the Official 2006 Christmahanukwanzakah Tree and the semi-official Call of Cthulhu tree topper! Wootness. Considering that The Husband and I didn’t have a tree last year, and didn’t even get around to exchanging gifts last year (2005 was a big year for Seasonal Affective Disorder in our house), this is pretty exciting for me. We have a tree. We have presents. We have…CTHULHU! He’s just darlin’, isn’t he?

Speaking of big, green, and Lovecraftian, I’m spending gobs of time working on my Morrowind WIP – The Cats of Ulthar. I think tonight’s agenda, besides wolfing down candy bars and 0-calorie club soda, is creating Joshi’s unique book for his quest (Edit: I used the text of the Lovecraft poem from an earlier post here), and trying to come up with an NPC for Carter’s Silver Key quest. Yes, I’m rambling on without explaining that Joshi and Carter are cats in my mod. I need to flesh out H.P’s dialogue, too. Lots to do, lots to do.

And, for what it’s worth, here’s a gratuitous cat picture!

I’ve been off a few days because I was called up for jury duty Monday morning, and was actually seated on a criminal trial that day. I really don’t want to write much about the trial — it wasn’t easy to sit through. It was criminal sexual assault by a homosexual man against two college kids. I say “kids” even though one of them was a 27-year-old Ph.D. candidate in philosophy; the other was a 19-year-old frat boy. The jury convicted the defendant on both counts, one as fourth degree (no penetration) and one as third degree (penetration — oral-penile) criminal sexual conduct.

I felt like I was going to throw up most of Tuesday during the deliberations. There were so many holes in the testimony, and so many unreliable witnesses, that I was positive that I couldn’t convict this man. It’s amazing how easy it is to change your mind during deliberations. Yes, he’s guilty of third degree; no, it can only be fourth degree; no, we can’t convict him at all based on this evidence. Yikes. You always tell yourself that you will act in a certain way when confronted with challenges in life. “Oh, I could never be swayed and convict a man if I thought there was the slightest chance he was innocent.” Yeah, right.

We had a good group of jurors, including two younger college students, one of whom I would categorize as a frat/party boy type. I don’t think it was easy for any of us in that room to reach that verdict.

What helped the most was that the judge came in and talked with us after the verdict was read. He was able to tell us some things we weren’t permitted to know during the trial, primarily that this defendant had two more counts of criminal sexual conduct pending against him that would be going to trial in March. He had similar charges against him dismissed in a bench trial in 2005. The reason the prosecutor was combining this trial with the two victims was to help him “establish a pattern of behavior” that he could demonstrate in the March trials.

I’m glad I was able to be a juror. I learned a great deal.

I never want to sit on another jury for a criminal case for the rest of my life.

The Husband(1) and I went to Flatsnoot’s World Headquarters (out on Washtenaw Avenue) and picked up our pagan/German/secular evergreen. I don’t sweat the details about who did what to whom when in all that history; I just like real Christmas trees. If you ever hear of me having one of those aluminum monstrosities that rotates and changes colors, check for pods in my basement.

In any event, I did not know (until now) that the State Song of Michigan (and Iowa, Maryland, and New Jersey), uses the melody from O Tannenbaum. I now feel compelled to look up the actual lyrics to the State Song of Michigan (2), but I digress.

We’ll get the lights and the ornaments on it tomorrow, and I’ll get my little digital camera on Tuesday so I can actually start taking and posting my own pictures! (gasp!) Until then, make do with this little pic of a white fir (Abies concolor), the kind we bought today.

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(1) In order to protect his privacy, no real names are going to be used. If I have to break down and give him a proper name, I’ll let him choose. Maybe something sexy like Antonio or Jacques…

(2) Just a small sample; there are four stanzas of this stuff:

A song to thee, fair State of mine,
Michigan, my Michigan;
But greater song than this is thine,
Michigan, my Michigan;
The whisper of the forest tree,
The thunder of the inland sea;
Unite in one grand symphony
Of Michigan, my Michigan

I have a very non-drama-filled life. In fact, it could accurately be described as “boring.” Now, while I do suffer from insomnia, chronic pain, and depression, I really don’t have any crises going on and I’m able to handle what life throws at me with considerable aplomb (What an awesome word — “aplomb.” I’m going to type it a few more times because it’s such a cool word. Aplomb, aplomb, aplomb). Big worries in my life right now include Christmas cards, visible skin tags, cats that have started peeing on the basement floor, and more projects involving yarn than I can possibly complete in a reasonable period of time (and yet, I still buy more yarn; what’s up with that?).

I simply don’t have the energy to live my life as if it was a made-for-TV movie (and if I did, I would ask that I be played by Susan Sarandon or Nicole Kidman, thank you, even though Nicole is much taller — and Susan a tad bit older — than I am in Real Life).

Today involves the following: Buying a Christmas tree; cleaning the living room in the preparation of the arrival of said Christmas tree; finding my Christmas decorations in the basement; and eating The Husband’s meatloaf. Yesterday was knitting, the Moscow Cats Theater, and coney dogs (with mustard).

I love my life. No crises.

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Typing stuff for the sake of typing stuff (I tend to do this a lot):

On Reading Lord Dunsany’s Book of Wonder
by H.P. Lovecraft

The hours of night unheeded fly,
And in the grate the embers fade;
Vast shadows one by one pass by
In silent daemon calvacade.

But still the magic volume holds
The raptur’d eye in realms apart,
And fulgent sorcery enfolds
The willing mind and eager heart.

The lonely room no more is there –
For to the sight in pomp appear
Temples and cities pois’d in air
And blazing glories — sphere on sphere.

Well, the first pic isn’t Vvardenfell. It’s the sewers underneath the Imperial City in Cyrodiil, but it’s still in The Elder Scrolls universe. TES IV: Oblivion was fun while it lasted. I went through it — and I certainly didn’t get through all the content — in about 6 months. Boredom then set in. Fiercely. I began to think more and more of TES III: Morrowind, so I returned to Vvardenfell.

The second pic is me in Balmora, the “starting city” in Morrowind. Laiane has undergone many metamorphoses over time (EverQuest, Morrowind, EverQuest 2, Oblivion, back to Morrowind, and, hopefully in the future, Vanguard). When I returned to Vvardenfell, I decided a change of hair color was in order. I’m a redhead in Real Life(tm); I can be a brunette elsewhere.

I returned to Morrowind after spending six months in Oblivion. Now, I must say I did enjoy Oblivion, but it was an exceptionally shallow game in terms of roleplaying content. Yes, it was pretty and had nice graphics and all that, but it was soulless.

I had awesome hair, though.

Well, here I am. Blogging. I tried getting a shorter blog address, like laiane.blogspot.com or furiousbalancing.blogspot.com, but apparently the Powers That Be in the universe dictated that some other people would have taken those names and then NEVER POST. Hrmmmpf to that, is all I can say.

I don’t particularly care if no one else in the Known Universe reads this blog, or writes comments, or is even aware of its existence. This one is for me. A place where I get to showcase my amazing punctuation skills. Something like that.