And then it was May

17 May

Wow.  I really don’t post on here as much as I probably should.  They say that journaling can help treat/stave off depression, so maybe I should give it more of a good ol’ college try.  I guess I don’t feel like I have anything interesting to talk about.

Reading:  Divergent – Veronica Roth;   A Rope of Thorns – Gemma Files;  Koko be Good – Jen Wang;  Ship Breaker – Paolo Bacigalupi
(Should one person really read this many books at once?)

Watching:  The IT Crowd;  Whites;  House;  Grey’s Anatomy;  Supernatural;  ANTM;  Hawaii Five-O

Playing:  WoW again;  Monster Tale;  Star Wars 3-D;  Portal 2 (done);  Settlers of Catan

Working on:  The Gentlemen Vol. 2;  The As Yet Untitled Short Story Maybe Novella About Deakon Anders, Private Detective/Public Dick;  The Immortality Principle

So today I made my lovely husband disassemble the contents of not one, but TWO, heavily overcrowded closets in our apartment.  Why did I do this?  So I could go home after a largely monotonous day at work to sort through that crap and make it less crap-like.  I absolutely hate clutter – I hate it so hard that it makes me anxious and uncomfortable in my own home.  I am going to throw/give away absolutely everything we don’t need and then beg on my hands and knees for Kami and Lu to do the same.

I also think this is a smart thing to do in terms of one day wanting to move out of this dark, cave-like apartment that we live in.  We have to have blackout curtains up to help control the heat in the apartment and it’s usually always dark, cluttered and depressing inside.  I hate it so much.  I can’t wait to move to a place with windows that don’t exist for the sole purpose of letting the sun in to sear off our flesh so that I can actually experience sunlight on a daily basis.  Oh Vitamin D, I do so miss you.

But back to the moving thing.  There is no way that we can take all of the crap we have with us to our next place.  Nor do I want to.  We need to learn to purge and live a more simple life, and I think it has to start with some books.  We are not going to be able to bribe friends with pizza and beer on moving day if they catch wind of the fact they might have to carry about… oh… 473 boxes of books to the truck and back into wherever we move.

Maybe this little ranty-rant is just because I feel like I don’t get much help in the ‘declutter’ department.  Lu and Kami aren’t built that way and it’s hard on them when I ask them to change.

At least I know I can do my part when I get home.  Every little bit counts.


Face Recognition

2 Mar

Just did a face recognition test – it was really cool.  I scored 82% which is just a smidge above average.  I wonder if I would do better if I took it at home as opposed to the office.  Anyways – you should try it!


Out of 72 faces, you correctly identified 59.
In other words, you got 82% correct.

On our previous version of this test, the average person with normal face recognition was able to recognize about 80% of the faces. If you correctly identified less than 65% of the faces, this may indicate face recognition difficulties.

For more information about face blindness and other face recognition difficulties, please go to

The Social Network

14 Jan

Okay, so I just read the entire Social Netork screenplay and I have to say that it’s pretty damn amazing.  The script was written by Aaron Sorkin (I’m pretty sure) and I’m in complete awe of his ability to write dialogue. 

Everything Mark (as he’s portrayed in the film) says is so smarmy and condescending and just – UGH. SO GOOD.  I wish I could write assholes that well.

I still want to see the film, but honestly – after having read the screenplay – I barely feel like I need to.  It was just so masterfully done.

Connery & Murrough

13 Jan

“Dead as a doornail.”

“Thank you Murrough, that’s very helpful.”

“I beg your pardon, ma’am?” said the officer by the door.

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I was thinking out loud,” I replied quickly.


“Now can it, you incorporeal imbecile,” I muttered under my breath. 

I knew Murrough would hear me.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him sulk away through the wall.

“Um, how long has she been down, constable?”

“The coroner said about eight hours, ma’am.  Cold as ice, he claimed.”


I studied the corpse as it lay on the bed.  It was a young woman, I wouldn’t put her over 25, with shoulder length brown hair.  She had a slight mouth and a narrow nose.  I tilted my head sideways.  She reminded me of a small bird.  A finch perhaps.

While I was gazing, I saw something glint off the floor under the bed.  I looked over my shoulder and saw that the curtains on the window were letting some sunlight peak through.  I lowered myself into a squat and peered under the bed.

“Boo!”  Murrough came barrelling out from the shadows.

“Jesus!” I yelped as I fell backwards on my ass.  The young constable came scurrying over to see if I was okay.

“Are you alright Detective?” he asked.  At least the concern was genuine and he wasn’t laughing at me.  I took a deep breath and scowled into the darkness.

“Yes, fine.  Thank you,” I pushed myself back up on to my feet and dusted off my pants.  “It was a mouse,” I lied.

“Oh, those little rascals can give you quite the scare, I’m afraid,” replied the officer, kindly.

“Constable, I hope you won’t mind checking under the bed for me.  I saw something shining before I was frightened so RUDELY,” I explained.  Loudly.

“Not at all, ma’am.”

The young man got down on his knees and reached under the bed with a gloved hand.  A moment later he extracted a strange mahogany handle.  It had metal rivets and a silver inlay; that would have explained the glinting I saw.  It appeared to be missing whatever it was that attached to it. 

“Well, it seems we’ve made quite the discovery,” I remarked.

Murrough was suddenly by my side, talking in my ear.

“That’s nothing, Conn,” he said, “you should see the bloody razor blade in the bathroom.”

I sucked on my teeth and vowed not to curse in front of the officer.  Instead, I glared angrily at Murrough.

“Thank you,” I said to the constable, “but something tells me we should investigate the bathroom next.”

The officer nodded and walked to the door.

“Call it a hunch,” I added.  I could see Murrough smirking as I walked past him.

Andy Warhol, The Spire, Lost Vegas and Glove Pins

3 Jan

Download an Andy Warhol paper toy by Matt Hawkins.

First person puzzler with a very Portal-esque feel, dontcha think?  Looks rad.

via SuperPunch

The Underground City of Las Vegas – “Lost Vegas


Conductive glove pins that attach to any pair of gloves and let you operate your touch phone, iPod, etc.  Brills.

Via Gear Patrol.

Merry Christmas, You Insensitive Prick

14 Dec

Bits and pieces of brightly coloured paper and ribbon were scattered across the floor as if a Christmas Elf had just exploded in the middle of the house.  In one corner of the room, Elle was sitting in front of the fiber-optic Christmas tree, marveling at the lights and ornaments.  She sat, quite contently, with a childlike smile on her face.

In the living room, Tybalt watched as Dart tried to wrap his presents; it was horrifying.  He didn’t crease the paper properly, never worried about the paper being pulled taught and certainly didn’t use the right bonding agent.

“Would you just let me do it, please?”

“No.  It’s important that I wrap Elle’s gift myself.  It’s her first Christmas.”

Tybalt rolled his eyes and took a moment to adjust the Reindeer horn headband that he wore atop his perfectly coiffed pompadour.

“What did you get your brother?”

“AJ?  Oh man, I found him the best gift.”  Dart reached over into a nearby box and shuffled several things around.  Finally, he pulled out a small object and put it on his face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Dart grinned like a fool and shook his head.  The eyeballs on the prank glasses bounced back and forth on their springs.

“What?  It’s hilarious!”

“Don’t you think that’s a little insensitive?” asked Ty.

Dart frowned and pulled off the glasses to look at them.

“He’ll totally get the joke,” Dart said, sounding a little bit like he was trying to convince himself it were the truth,” besides, it’s better than nothing, which is what he was going to get otherwise.”

Ty cocked an eyebrow incredulously, but said nothing.

“Just shut up and wrap it,” Dart replied, tossing him the gift.


“Thanks man.  Uh… What is it?” Dart asking, turning the cube over and over in his hands.  It didn’t look like much; it was about as heavy as a textbook and made of what looked like clear Plexiglas.  There was nothing inside.

“It’s a StormCube,” AJ explained, “I invented it.”

“You don’t say…”

“Yeah, it’s like a new age mood ring,” he continued.  “Hold it for a moment and it will mirror your mood through an electo-stimulated meterological event contained in that cube.”


“Just watch.”

Dart held the cube up closer to his face and watched as the cube suddenly came to life.  Tiny clouds formed on the top and a gentle rain started.  Miniature lightning bolts shot from the top to the bottom and illuminated the glass.


“That’s confusion.  An electrical storm.  Get it?”

Dart suddenly thought of his own present and felt grossly outdone.  The cube sensed his mood swing and changed; more dark gray clouds invaded the cube and a downpour started in the enclosed world.  Dart put the StormCube on the couch next to him and covered it with a pillow.

“So, what did you get me?” asked AJ.



Dart stood up from the couch and grabbed the present for AJ from under the tree.  He walked over to the window, opened it and threw the box out into the snow.


“You got me nothing?”

“Trust me.  It was better than the alternative.”

Dart shut the window and tried to move nonchalantly back to the couch.

“What did you just throw out the window?”

“Um, Ty’s gift.  It was… a cheese plate.  And it was bad.  I could smell it.”

“Seriously?” AJ asked, frowning.


“And you’re just going to go with that?”


A moment later the door opened and Adelle walked in, carrying the box.

“Someone threw AJ’s gift out of the wi-”

“Nooooo!” Dart yelled.

Critiques and Opinions and Rewrites – Oh My!

26 Nov

So the time has finally come to present the first three chapters of my not-quite-a-novel-yet to the writing class.  The anxiety is back in a mjor way and I’m totally terrified by what these people will say about it.  It’s really important to me personally to get honest feedback, but I also don’t want to be one of those people who is a total hack but no one can find the guts to tell them so they just keep showing up and believing they can write and-  okay, okay.

Wish me luck?