simonejester: text: "right on" ([text] right on)


Series of text messages from damnyouautocorrect.com

Dad: come on down, dinner is ready
Daughter: Be there in a min, I'm doing Lauren
Dad: who the fuck is Lauren
Dad: if she is your girlfriend, she can have some dinner too
Daughter: Dad! I meant laundry. I'm not  a lesbian.
Dad: that's a shame. men are dicks. now come eat

The daughter might not actually be queer, but still--parenting WIN.
simonejester: danbo and an xbox360 controller (love: chris and fizzy)
There was nothing spectacular about yesterday, just that I got up early enough (after going to bed early, so I was actually rested), and got to be awake for awhile and have most of a cup of coffee before taking my meds and having breakfast. I had time to read fic and update Tumblr and it was just nice and quiet.

I got to work early enough that since there was a good Supertramp song on, I just sat in the car, drumming on the steering wheel and singing along until it was over before going in, and that put me in a good mood for the rest of the day, and I finished a scarf and made two more, so yay. :)

Today wasn't all that spectacular either, especially since just as I was getting into the car to be at work early again today, Chris needed me at the company (I'd dropped him off at the motor pool at 0545), and I was 20 minutes or so late for work as a result. Though neither Della nor Teri seemed to notice, so all's well that ends well.

It was a pretty good day. My crochet friend Victor stopped by to ask why I hadn't been there last week (I'd been at home sick with plague--I mean a bad cold), since he'd brought his fiancee to meet me (I've taught him basic crochet, he's gotten quite good). That was a bummer but he did show me his cool titanium-alloy engagement ring (so cool that the guy gets one too, that should totally be a new tradition!) and I'll be seeing him tomorrow for our Saturday stitch-and-bitch. :)

AND, and this is the great thing that happened today, Chris came to get me early (after getting him at the company, we'd gone to the PX together and Chris took the car from there), and I had cash to pay for most of the new Elder Scrolls game so he was able to get that (AND they called him back into the store because right after he left, someone came in and turned in one, so they returned the unused new game and sold him the used one at the used price since there were no special codes or anything for buying new, and got the difference back in cash), and then he went to wander off...and then he came back with a box of something behind him, a big box like something you'd get a new laptop in, though it didn't look heavy enough in his hands to be a laptop case...and he told me to guess. I guessed "chocolate"--and I was right!

It was a huge-ass box of chocolates. A Whitman's Sampler. And when I was packing up to go the other shopkeepers (all women since the florist lady's husband wasn't around at that time) got to "awwww" over that nice thing that Chris did. Time to nom some with Chris and then go to bed, and then I'll bring what's left so share at work with my friends, especially the single ones because they deserve to be given chocolate too. :)

So, how're y'all doing?

AWESOME.

Jun. 13th, 2011 04:52 am
simonejester: danbo and an xbox360 controller (Default)

[Superman is in London, which is being attacked by aliens. He goes into what he thinks is a phone booth to change into his super-suit, but he winds up in the TARDIS with The Tenth Doctor looking on with a WTF? expression.]

Found here by hydeandgeek of Tumblr. :)

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simonejester: danbo and an xbox360 controller (Default)
May 12

It started with me worrying that I wouldn't be able to get to the airport, but (LJ)autumn_mourning and her husband got me there, and I stayed at the Best Western by the Syracuse airport that night and flew out the next day. The flights were uneventful and my stepmom picked me up from the airport and after some internetting, I went to bed in what is now a guest room, which was once Travis's and then Katie's. My stepmom's mom sleeps there when she stays over, and she apparently has the same love of soft surfaces to sleep on as I do, because there was the most wonderful mattress cover on the bed. It was like sleeping on a cloud.

Even though I was wide awake and would rather have driven to Titusville that night (despite the cloud-bed), my mom wanted to turn in early and she couldn't have done that if I'd shown up at midnight. But I stopped reading my then-current fic and went to bed around midnight.

May 13

I got up around 0615 feeling less than rested since it took forever to get to sleep since I hadn't really been tired, but I was out the door around 0630 which meant no Keva Juice smoothie. (There'll be time for those in the coming week.) The drive from Sarasota to Titusville was uneventful and I switched back and forth between Lithium (grunge/alternative rock from the 90's) and MSNBC on Sirius XM since that's in the car I was borrowing. I feel so spoiled. :P

It was great to see my mommy and I was gonna tweet "MOMMYMOMMYMOMMY" before going in but my mom was outside to meet me, mostly because she was just glad to see me but also because they have new grass in their yard and she didn't want me parking by the sidewalk like I'd done last visit. After not very long we went and picked up my Aunt Valerie from the hotel she and my uncle and cousin were staying at (they could have stayed with my mom but I guess they wanted to swim in the hotel pool, and my mom and stepdad don't have a pool...they have an absence of a pool. There's a back-yard area for one, but it's all concrete. I still think they should have painted a pool on the concrete.) and we went to Merritt Square Mall for an ordeal of shopping that was rather less of an ordeal than I thought it'd be. I was broke (stupid girl, why u no stay at USO?) so my mom paid for the stuff I wore to the rehearsal dinner and wedding, which will just be added to all I owe her (I have a list for my dad too) for someday when I'm more solvent. I got a nice beachy shirt and white capris for the rehearsal dinner and a sleeveless dress for the wedding. It's beach themed since both my cousin and her now-husband are into beaches and surfing.

A few hours after we got back we were off to the rehearsal dinner, and since I'd forgotten my meds that was a bit of a mess of me tearing up at every speech (ye gods and little fishes, can I get a Celexa up in here?), but it was nice, and not just the wedding party (clearly, since I was just a guest) but apparently everyone who was invited to the wedding the next day, and the food was excellent, and I finally got to meet my cousin's then-fiancee. He adores my cousin in a way like Chris adores me. I approve of him. His family seems nice too.

By the end I was a bit loopy (well, disoriented/dizzy/etc) from lack of adequate sleep and total lack of medication and sappy touching things that made me tear up at the drop of a hat line. But we went to Wal-Mart hoping to find a wrap of some sort for me to wear over the sleeveless dress and we didn't find anything so I went and got some matching yarn and started on making one that night. I wish I'd known we wouldn't find anything to just buy at Wal-Mart, otherwise I could have started the project between getting back from the mall and going to the rehearsal dinner.

May 14

The wedding day.

I got up early and got right to work on the wrap, and even though I concentrated and worked fast, I wasn't able to get the width I'd wanted. If I could have worked through the time between the mall and the rehearsal dinner, I probably could have gotten it but ah well, we can only travel in time one way, forward at one second per second.

My mom had left early to help my cousin with her dress and everything (they only asked her at the rehearsal dinner and she had her four bridesmaids and her mom my aunt and her now-mother-in-law, but okay, it's her wedding) so it was just my stepdad and me when we went to pick up my Great Aunt Mary. I was still working on the project. I finished the one round of fillets and lines around the time we got to where the ceremony was being held and since I forgot my scissors one of my uncles let me use his nail clippers to tie it off. I got some nice compliments on it.

I stuck with Aunt Mary for most of the wedding since we were both there without our husbands, she being recently widowed (well, in '08 I think) and Chris being back in New York on a field exercise (he's back now, and glad to be able to sleep in his own bed!). The ceremony was beautiful, and we guests spent most of it helpfully swatting lovebugs off each other. (O hai lovebug mating season! I hadn't missed that while I was stuck in places-where-it-snows!) The ceremony was on a boardwalk thingy with the beach in the background, and it was beautiful, and the groom's dad of all people did the ceremony. I would so not let my FIL do that, but hey, not my wedding. It was beautiful and they did this "sand ceremony" which is based on some kind of ceremony where my cousin had sand from the beach around here and the groom had sand from where he grew up in North Carolina and they poured them into the same big glass jar. It was lovely.

The reception was back in the building where the bride room was and while the food was good at that, the food at the rehearsal dinner was better. :P I was at a table with my mom, my stepdad, and Aunt Mary, and my Aunt Valerie and my uncle and cousin on her side, and a couple whom I'm apparently related to but I can't remember their names. They were a bit aghast that I didn't like shrimp but I pointed out that this meant more for them and they liked that answer.

Great Aunt Mary (who is 76 so's you know) told me this story that I thought y'all might like: When I was five, I asked my daddy if I could have a sip of his coffee, and he said, "If you drink coffee before you're twelve, you'll turn black." I thought about this and said, "I don't mind being a little dark. May I have a sip of your coffee?" Out of the mouths of babes, ya?

There was a very good DJ there that made every one get up and dance* and there were some goofy dances like the Cha-Cha Slide and the Electric Slide and even the Macarena (!) and the groom really threw himself into it. Apparently he and my cousin do a lot of dancing, because they're really good at it, and they were just so perfect together. (*tearing up as I write this out*)

This wasn't an evening reception where the bride and groom take forever to leave. The groom's family is pretty well off so the bride and groom left early to go to Orlando, and the next day they flew to Costa Rica for their honeymoon. We blew bubbles at them as they dashed through the rain (at least it waited until after the outdoor ceremony!) into their limo. After that my mom and stepdad took my Aunt Mary home and went home themselves and I stayed to help with the cleanup since I was too broke to buy a present (we didn't get paid until the next day, I think) and figured it was the least I could do. It was me and my aunt and uncle the bride's parents, and the groom's parents, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen that made short work of the cleanup and my Aunt Karen (bridecousin's mother) took me home, though on the way (it was a bit of a drive since the wedding was on Merritt Island) I mentioned looking forward to going to Michaels and other places to look for yarn, she decided hey, let's swing by now so we did since it was on the way and I got some nice thick wool yarn that's more of the new store brand Loops and Threads. I made a turquoise ruffle scarf and a light gray (with maybe a light bluish tint?) flat one that, once I go back and get a yarn needle and weave all the ends in, I'll give those as wedding presents, since my cousin and new cousin-in-law will be living in North Carolina and it gets warm enough to wear scarves there. Aunt Karen even took me through the drive-thru at Sonny's when I mentioned my restaurant list and wouldn't let me pay for it. For the record, I didn't ask in either case, Aunt Karen-on-my-mom's-side is just that nice. (I have an Aunt Karen on my dad's side too, just for...I dunno, the record?...and she's nice too, but I don't know her as well and Maternal Aunt Karen just has this lovely honest-to-goodness kindness about her that is awesome, and clearly my cousin inherited that along with the great decorating sense.)

And now for the pictures! )

*not ableist terming in this case (otherwise I'd have phrased it differently, I'm getting pretty good at this inclusive language thing though I've no doubt I've got plenty more to learn) since everyone in this group was ambulatory, which is good since there were stairs going up to different areas. I think the only people with disabilities there were myself (depression, anxiety, possible Asperger's) and my now-married cousin's brother Tyler, who has severe mental handicaps but could probably have been an Olympic runner (or so me kind of competitive, I dunno) if he could be taught where and when to run and where and when to stop.

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simonejester: danbo and an xbox360 controller (Default)

Because places like Oregon are too busy Rickrolling us.


AWESOME. (From PunditKitchen)

[In short: here, have a video, because I have nothing of import to write about. I've just been listening to audiobooks and making hats and scarves and granny squares.]

Also, this.

political pictures - scott walker - wisconsin - unions - Walker of Shame
see more Political Pictures

Image from the 2011 Zombie Walk Against Governor Walker.

The Milwaukee-Wisconsin Journal Sentinel reports that you don’t need higher education or a clean record to work for Scott Walker’s administration, as long as your father donates $121,652 to the campaign. Apparently Walker employed a 26 year-old with only a high school diploma and two drunk driving convictions, who just happens to be the son of a prolific campaign donor. His salary? $81,500 per year.

Said donor Jerry Deschane in response to the controversy surrounding his son:

“I put in good words for every one of my children in their jobs. But that would be the extent of it.”

I’ve heard that “good words” can actually be quite potent when wrapped in money. Oops, I mean, braaaaiiiinnnnnssssss.



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simonejester: text: "right on" ([text] right on)

I hope that this conversation carries far and wide, and that I can have some part in it.

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simonejester: danbo and an xbox360 controller (love: chris and fizzy)
This is by [livejournal.com profile] lady_blue_peach. Quoted with permission.

Fizzy, Chris, and their dirty little Ravenclaw.


I call her Fizzy because her hair reminds me of soda,

I laid on her bed of yellow and black and we kissed ever so gently,

All I wanted to do was be with her,

"Why don't I get a kiss too?"

I smile wide and lean over to kiss my love,

My other love,

"Don't be jealous, Chris, We where just thinking about you." Fizzy said

And I agree with a soft kiss on his lips
simonejester: text: "right on" ([text] right on)
...and that it's already New Year's Eve depending on your time zone, but I just saw this on my flist and felt I had to share it. The text is by Ricky Gervais but the bolding is done by me--of the parts he says better than I can, apparently.

A Holiday Message from Ricky Gervais: Why I'm An Atheist

( source )

Why don’t you believe in God? I get that question all the time. I always try to give a sensitive, reasoned answer. This is usually awkward, time consuming and pointless. People who believe in God don’t need proof of his existence, and they certainly don’t want evidence to the contrary. They are happy with their belief. They even say things like “it’s true to me” and “it’s faith.” I still give my logical answer because I feel that not being honest would be patronizing and impolite. It is ironic therefore that “I don’t believe in God because there is absolutely no scientific evidence for his existence and from what I’ve heard the very definition is a logical impossibility in this known universe,” comes across as both patronizing and impolite.

Arrogance is another accusation. Which seems particularly unfair. Science seeks the truth. And it does not discriminate. For better or worse it finds things out. Science is humble. It knows what it knows and it knows what it doesn’t know. It bases its conclusions and beliefs on hard evidence -­- evidence that is constantly updated and upgraded. It doesn’t get offended when new facts come along. It embraces the body of knowledge. It doesn’t hold on to medieval practices because they are tradition. If it did, you wouldn’t get a shot of penicillin, you’d pop a leach down your trousers and pray. Whatever you “believe,” this is not as effective as medicine. Again you can say, “It works for me,” but so do placebos. My point being, I’m saying God doesn’t exist. I’m not saying faith doesn’t exist. I know faith exists. I see it all the time. But believing in something doesn’t make it true. Hoping that something is true doesn’t make it true. The existence of God is not subjective. He either exists or he doesn’t. It’s not a matter of opinion. You can have your own opinions. But you can’t have your own facts.

Why don’t I believe in God? No, no no, why do YOU believe in God? Surely the burden of proof is on the believer. You started all this. If I came up to you and said, “Why don’t you believe I can fly?” You’d say, “Why would I?” I’d reply, “Because it’s a matter of faith.” If I then said, “Prove I can’t fly. Prove I can’t fly see, see, you can’t prove it can you?” You’d probably either walk away, call security or throw me out of the window and shout, ‘’F—ing fly then you lunatic.”

This, is of course a spirituality issue, religion is a different matter. As an atheist, I see nothing “wrong” in believing in a god. I don’t think there is a god, but belief in him does no harm. If it helps you in any way, then that’s fine with me. It’s when belief starts infringing on other people’s rights when it worries me. I would never deny your right to believe in a god. I would just rather you didn’t kill people who believe in a different god, say. Or stone someone to death because your rulebook says their sexuality is immoral. It’s strange that anyone who believes that an all-powerful all-knowing, omniscient power responsible for everything that happens, would also want to judge and punish people for what they are. From what I can gather, pretty much the worst type of person you can be is an atheist. The first four commandments hammer this point home. There is a god, I’m him, no one else is, you’re not as good and don’t forget it. (Don’t murder anyone, doesn’t get a mention till number 6.)

When confronted with anyone who holds my lack of religious faith in such contempt, I say, “It’s the way God made me.”

But what are atheists really being accused of?

The dictionary definition of God is “a supernatural creator and overseer of the universe.” Included in this definition are all deities, goddesses and supernatural beings. Since the beginning of recorded history, which is defined by the invention of writing by the Sumerians around 6,000 years ago, historians have cataloged over 3700 supernatural beings, of which 2870 can be considered deities.

So next time someone tells me they believe in God, I’ll say “Oh which one? Zeus? Hades? Jupiter? Mars? Odin? Thor? Krishna? Vishnu? Ra?…” If they say “Just God. I only believe in the one God,” I’ll point out that they are nearly as atheistic as me. I don’t believe in 2,870 gods, and they don’t believe in 2,869.

I used to believe in God. The Christian one that is.

I loved Jesus. He was my hero. More than pop stars. More than footballers. More than God. God was by definition omnipotent and perfect. Jesus was a man. He had to work at it. He had temptation but defeated sin. He had integrity and courage. But He was my hero because He was kind. And He was kind to everyone. He didn’t bow to peer pressure or tyranny or cruelty. He didn’t care who you were. He loved you. What a guy. I wanted to be just like Him.

One day when I was about 8 years old, I was drawing the crucifixion as part of my Bible studies homework. I loved art too. And nature. I loved how God made all the animals. They were also perfect. Unconditionally beautiful. It was an amazing world.

I lived in a very poor, working-class estate in an urban sprawl called Reading, about 40 miles west of London. My father was a laborer and my mother was a housewife. I was never ashamed of poverty. It was almost noble. Also, everyone I knew was in the same situation, and I had everything I needed. School was free. My clothes were cheap and always clean and ironed. And mum was always cooking. She was cooking the day I was drawing on the cross.

I was sitting at the kitchen table when my brother came home. He was 11 years older than me, so he would have been 19. He was as smart as anyone I knew, but he was too cheeky. He would answer back and get into trouble. I was a good boy. I went to church and believed in God -– what a relief for a working-class mother. You see, growing up where I did, mums didn’t hope as high as their kids growing up to be doctors; they just hoped their kids didn’t go to jail. So bring them up believing in God and they’ll be good and law abiding. It’s a perfect system. Well, nearly. 75 percent of Americans are God-­‐fearing Christians; 75 percent of prisoners are God-­‐fearing Christians. 10 percent of Americans are atheists; 0.2 percent of prisoners are atheists.

But anyway, there I was happily drawing my hero when my big brother Bob asked, “Why do you believe in God?” Just a simple question. But my mum panicked. “Bob,” she said in a tone that I knew meant, “Shut up.” Why was that a bad thing to ask? If there was a God and my faith was strong it didn’t matter what people said.

Oh…hang on. There is no God. He knows it, and she knows it deep down. It was as simple as that. I started thinking about it and asking more questions, and within an hour, I was an atheist.

Wow. No God. If mum had lied to me about God, had she also lied to me about Santa? Yes, of course, but who cares? The gifts kept coming. And so did the gifts of my new found atheism. The gifts of truth, science, nature. The real beauty of this world. I learned of evolution -– a theory so simple that only England’s greatest genius could have come up with it. Evolution of plants, animals and us –- with imagination, free will, love, humor. I no longer needed a reason for my existence, just a reason to live. And imagination, free will, love, humor, fun, music, sports, beer and pizza are all good enough reasons for living.

But living an honest life -– for that you need the truth. That’s the other thing I learned that day, that the truth, however shocking or uncomfortable, in the end leads to liberation and dignity.

So what does the question “Why don’t you believe in God?” really mean. I think when someone asks that they are really questioning their own belief. In a way they are asking “what makes you so special? “How come you weren’t brainwashed with the rest of us?” “How dare you say I’m a fool and I’m not going to heaven, f— you!” Let’s be honest, if one person believed in God he would be considered pretty strange. But because it’s a very popular view it’s accepted. And why is it such a popular view? That’s obvious. It’s an attractive proposition. Believe in me and live forever. Again if it was just a case of spirituality this would be fine.

“Do unto others…” is a good rule of thumb. I live by that. Forgiveness is probably the greatest virtue there is. But that’s exactly what it is -­‐ a virtue. Not just a Christian virtue. No one owns being good. I’m good. I just don’t believe I’ll be rewarded for it in heaven. My reward is here and now. It’s knowing that I try to do the right thing. That I lived a good life. And that’s where spirituality really lost its way. When it became a stick to beat people with. “Do this or you’ll burn in hell.”

You won’t burn in hell. But be nice anyway.

And here's a follow-up: Does God Exist? Ricky Gervais Takes Your Questions.

Both articles are from the Wall Street Journal. The first one was found via (LJ)antitheism.
simonejester: danbo and an xbox360 controller (Default)
Fizzy: bahahaha thought
me: ??
Fizzy: (I'm sorry Mr Paterson sir!)
Sent at 2:47 AM on Wednesday
Fizzy: I wrote her out a letter
Which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent off to Alaska Where I thought it ought to go

She'd grown crafty since I knew her
Fond of yarn, so it went to her
Just for fun, addressed as follows
"Spacey of the Overflow"

My answer came directed, as I confess I expected
Though the picture somewhat shocked me - piles of yarn stacked up the wall!
I knew that she must be there, but I found it hard to see there
No matter where I looked, the yarn pile hid her all...
me: :D :D :D
Fizzy: Spacey of the Overflow with apologies to A. B. Paterson
me: May I post that?
Also, see the "yarn mountain" pics, those are the ones I just took: http://www.flickr.com/photos/simonejester/
Fizzy: you can post it
me: You should put that in your assignment. :P
Fizzy: is a poor shadow of a quite well known Aussie poem
me: How does the original go?
Fizzy: http://www.wallisandmatilda.com.au/clancy-of-the-overflow.shtml

AWESOME, I say. XD

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