Men are mere mortals who aren't worth going to your grave for

I guess I should rant about grammar more often and not clean up my language in future posts.

One of my favorite Onion side-bar headlines ever was along the lines of "Neighborhood Ravaged by Ask-Murderer". For that is one of my larger pronunciation pet-peeves.

Back when I was engaged (yes, strange things like that have been known to happen), one of the big issues I had with my soon to be ex-fiance was his mispronunciation of the word "Moot", as in the infamous Jesse Jackson SNL gameshow of "The Question is Moot!" He insisted on saying "mute." During a conversation with his mother, I noticed she said it the same way as well. He refused to believe that he could be mispronouncing it. Of course, he was none too bright when it came to correct word usage. I recall one argument we had in which he claimed that I was in the wrong because the words he used meant only what he meant them to mean at the time he was using them, not what the dictionary said they meant. When he declared this, I nearly choked since it was almost exactly Alice's argument with Humpty Dumpty in Through the Looking Glass. If I hadn't known for a fact that he had not read the book, I would swear he was acting it out as a joke. (For the Humpty argument, go to http://kevinmclachlen.5u.com/alice/alice2.html and scroll down to Chapter VI.)

In other updates, Colin, who was supposed to call me late this afternoon, did not. So, I reserve full rights to be snarky about it since this is the second time such a thing has happened. Besides, it is a turn on for him to have me be snarky to him. Dunno why *shrug*. Of course, this is the same lad who was declaring his love for me within seconds of realizing in the torch-light that my hair is red and that I had an attitude to match. So, I should not be surprised.

Sleepy time.

Take my hand; forget your fears, babe

The morning after my last post, I received an email from the Otter about my trip to MN. He will have his son that week-end, so if we have any time together, it will be short. He will have his son at the event I am attending as well. I strongly suspect his ex wife will also be there. So, that means I get to keep my distance at the event. *sigh* oh well. At least I am day-tripping it and can skidaddle at my leisure if thigs get too strange to deal with.

I called Colin tonight to tell him how much airfare is to Chicago. He is apparently mildly afraid of flying...but will be coming out in November for a visit. I was hoping for an earlier time, but after looking at schedules and free week-ends, it has to be November.

In other news, I found myself getting rather upset while listening to the radio this evening. Whatever happened to the g in the words strength and length? they have suddenly become strenth and lenth. People who say these words like this are perfectly able to say running or learning...they don't say "runnin" or "learnin". What do they have against that poor, innocent g? It drives me absolutely bonkers to hear. It actually makes my tongue go back a little in my throat, causing me to gag a little bit.

What is with these people??? My mother, for whom English is a second language and whose native language has some of the most whackadoo ways of saying the letter g in the world, pronounces her g in these "ength" words with no issue.

Also, what about the poor, innocent t in the word often? How come it gets changed by so many into an f? Granted, the t looks like an f turned upside-down, but that is simply not an excuse.

And, while I am on the stupid things people say on the radio rant, can we please pass a bill that fines politicians for saying the phrase "I and my staff," ASAP?? It is "My staff and I", dickwad. Be polite, be considerate, open the grammatical door for someone else before walking through yourself...put them first. It sounds awkward and pig-headed when you thrust yourself in first.

Besides, I strongly suspect your staff was doing most of the research into the issue you were investigating, so give them the credit they deserve.

OK, time to sleep now.

Me and Lucifer...Lucifer and me

Yes, I am burning in hell.

First off, the Otterish one emailed me this morning. He has been busy again...this time with jury duty this week along with his other bits of busy-ness. He asked about my planned trip to MN. It was again a nice, short, sweet email.

Secondly, I went to an Oktoberfest (yes, I know it is still September) nearby and apparently horrified a few of my non-spouse's young fem friends by slamming/bantering with a moderately concerning lederhosen-clad man. They are so young. I then spent a nice time playing more Star Wars Battlefront with my non-spouse. I am managing to hold my own pretty decently in that game. Lots of fun that I highly recommend.

Thirdly, the reason I am burning in hell...I spent two hours on the electric telephone with Colin just talking about everything and anything. He is now looking at when he can come out for a visit. I know there is not an agreement with the Otter about our status. However, at Pennsic, I was definitely using the Otter to not get too attached to Colin (who knew about the Otter) and was using Colin to not get too attached to The Otter (who did not know about Colin). I wonder if I am using him to once again not get attached to the Otter.

Hell, I don't wonder...I am using him for that.

Thus, I will request to be buried in asbestos-lined clothing with lots of sunscreen when I die.

I was wrong to wait around so long to be the one you sang love's sweet old-fashioned song to

Due to criticism of my last post, I will not post another quiz result on this site. However, I still love the line "The Fool is God" from that description of the Fool.

And, well, I'm a fool, backed by some proof.

So, can one deduce that I am God? Hrmmmm...

...or just a simple low to mid-level goddess?

In other minorly amusing news, I decided to try hunting down some photos taken by some folks from Australia at Pennsic. I think I may be onto a lead. One of the folks who was in the encampment where the photos were taken (but whom I don't recall meeting) wrote about the person who took the photos showing them at a gathering just a week and a half ago. I wrote to the person who posted, asking him to put me in contact with the photographer.

So, hopefully, the blackmail material will be gained soon :) The only behavior I am minorly embarrassed by at Pennsic was the behavior at that party because of the apparent assumptions made about my group of people. Margarita and I played with the assumptions, but were unable to really benefit from them since everyone we were interested in pursuing in the camp was unavailable for anything more than hugs and a tiny smidge of flirting. The fact we were pursuing someone in the camp for so long was what was embarrassing, especially because he was so unavailable. We didn't know that he was unavailable until after we had left the party.

For people who know me, to illustrate how much I was pursuing that lad in the Australian camp, I was actually drinking BEER. See, if one is in the camp of the Australians, one really should drink beer to be polite. Well, in order to have excuse to return to the lad, who was tending bar, as often as possible, I actually drank beer...having him repeatedly refill my petite drinking-horn. I HATE beer. Other alcohol, I am fine with (except for fermented milk). I managed to just sit behind the bartender to make the repeated refilling easier.

The lad looked like Karl Urban; what else was I supposed to do? I managed to be bold enough to scritch his beard and then the back of his head and he turned rather nice and putty-like in my hands as he leaned into the scritchies. And later at War, when I hugged him at a different party, he invited me to his camp to hug him as much as I wished and scritch his head as much as I wished; even to wash his rather long hair. However, I learned that he is very attached and that was all I would be getting; the position of serving him. So, I never took him up on his offer...had too many others to juggle and keep me busy that actually panned-out anyway.

But damn, that boy looked too much like Karl Urban, and sorta sounded like him. But his accent was Australian, not the elegant pure Kiwi accent of Mr. Urban.

Time to sleep.

Oh, by the way, yes, I know the name of the camp and of the lads...even their shire and geographic location. However, to keep this blog from popping up as a search result, I kept the terms rather vague..."Australians", "lads", etc.

...

Wait, one last bit. My first ever quiz results displayed on a blog. Yeah, horrid and typical, but I was amused. Yes, this is how the madness starts.


You are the Fool card. The Fool fearlessly begins
the journey into the unknown. To do this, he
does not regard the world he knows as firm and
fixed. He has a seemingly reckless disregard
for obstacles. In the Ryder-Waite deck, he is
seen stepping off a cliff with his gaze on the
sky, and a rainbow is there to catch him. In
order to explore and expand, one must disregard
convention and conformity. Those in the throes
of convention look at the unconventional,
non-conformist personality and think What a
fool. They lack the point of view to understand
The Fool's actions. But The Fool has roots in
tradition as one who is closest to the spirit
world. In many tribal cultures, those born with
strange and unusual character traits were held
in awe. Shamans were people who could see
visions and go on journeys that we now label
hallucinations and schizophrenia. Those with
physical differences had experience and
knowledge that the average person could not
understand. The Fool is God. The number of the
card is zero, which when drawn is a perfect
circle. This circle represents both emptiness
and infinity. The Fool is not shackled by
mountains and valleys or by his physical body.
He does not accept the appearance of cliff and
air as being distinct or real. Image from: Mary
DeLave http://www.marydelave.com/

Which Tarot Card Are You?

I'm becoming too honest for my own good these days

OK, I'm back to my regular wondering of when or even if I will hear from the Otter.

So yeah. That's what I'm doing. Wondering and wondering. Bad thing for me to do. So, I will stop.

Played Star Wars Battlefront last night. Totally kicks ass. Yes yes yes it does. I usually loathe games where you are in a battle, but I think that is because they have usually centered around real-life items. I hate WWII-based games of the sort. Probably because of my grandmother and grandfather being the civilians hiding-out in those bombed-out buildings during that time. It is too real and too close to home. Playing a clone, robot, Rebel or Imperial, well, that's totally different.

It was also really nice to hang out with my non-spouse again. Ever since my return from Pennsic, we have hardly seen each other. It could make me wonder, but all of that power (the power of wonder) is focused upon the subject of the first sentence of this entry. It was just good to be able to spend non-pressure time with him and just talk. Granted, a lot of the talk was about the game. But that is to be expected with two Star Wars nuts like us.

Anyway, that's about it for tonight. life just continues. Which is a good thing.

Can the brightest brooch shield me from reproach?

Tonight, I was looking for a specific small brooch I plan on wearing for an upcoming event. I don't usually think of myself as a garb-girl, but I wanted to look at it to make sure that the supertunic I am making will look good with it since I am quite hesitant about mixing blue and red. It took a bit of searching, but it was eventually found. However, what I encountered while looking for it was interesting.

I keep most of my SCA-related pretties in a small chest my father made for me. The chest is about 7 inches deep, 12 inches long, and about 7 inches high with a rounded top. I actually had problems closing it easily with how much stuff was in it. A few of the "pretties" are things I don't wear or small keepsakes from events, but the fact that I couldn't close it struck me as odd. Have I really acquired that much stuff? My persona is not a huge jewelry-wearer. I decided this summer to make an earlier more norse/celtic persona just to wear the stone necklaces. This of course necessitated the purchase of a 4 inch diameter stunning cloak-pin with celtic bear heads.

It struck me as very odd to see.

I'm OK most of the time. I just feel a little lonely tonight

Well, my truck is one 12-pack of hard cider emptier than it was yesterday. I still have lots of Pennsic stuff in there screaming at me to move it to a proper storage area. I also have to order my new pavillion tomorrow. And, I really need to get a wardrobe for my bedroom. That will help tons with storing everything else. *sigh*

Where to start though? I don't know for sure. Probably, the first step is to finally clean out my back room. I hate how dark it is back there ever since they built the additional two floors on the building next door. However, I should see if I can stay here a nice long time and save up $$ to make sure I can get a place with a sunnier back room.

Oh well. Night all!

If I were there and you were here, I'd meet you in-between

Very short.

Very happy.

3 emails in one day from the Otter. In one of them, he even sorta distantly remotely hinted at an acknowledgement that there was something going on between us and may still be. So, I was all sorts of giddy giggly today.

Time to sleep though. Oh, and just a reminder to you all that the old advice of not talking about politics if you want a pleasant dinner party is all too true. And, I deserve a medal for not getting medieval on the beee-hind of a lad this eve who was apparently never taught that bit of etiquette.

*sigh*
I can never show my face in that coffee-shop again.

Believe me, I'll get by somehow; just tell me what's gonna happen now

Another short message.

I got quite squishy this morning. I sent the Otter a quick email with a decent solution to his computer woes of late--to call Mr. Mouse for help since Mr. Mouse is local, a friend, and has an amazing talent for fixing things, with an interest in computers. For those of you who have been regular readers, you will understand my surprize when I received a response within 30 minutes to this message. Poor Otter has been quite a busy boy with teaching a class, taking two classes, working manditory overtime, and trying to resettle his life...on top of that, a relative recently passed away. So he is headed out of state to a funeral tomorrow night. Poor Otter. He was very pleased with my idea and, this is the part that really made me smile, actually apologized for having not been able to get back to me sooner.

Stupid, but it did make me smile.

The message was rather chipper considering all that is going on. But, well, that is just the Otter. Is it any wonder I want to see if there is something between us...well, outside of items of a carnal nature when we are together.

Nighters!

Here I'm waiting for a little sign; waiting til the end of time.

Bad me. I skipped out on my workout tonight. It was best that I didn't go. Sleep is the most necessary item right now. I will go tomorrow. Really. I swear.

I actually think that I'm coming down with something. My brain feels very fuzzy. Trust me, it does.

I'm trying to stay off of the topics of politics and the Otter, so not much else is really worth blogging about tonight that I feel like sharing with the world.

So, I feel the urge to point to one of the sites out there on the web that is so stupid that it makes me giggle... http://www.whereisedsshirt.com/ . Basically, a bunch of friends stole Ed's shirt and are having random people wear it and have their photos taken with it. Yeah, an overused idea, but very nicely done with a blog for the shirt and, most amusing, shirts for sale with photos of the shirt. I am actually tempted to get a shirt that says "My other shirt is Ed's."

That is all I have the brain power for tonight. Night!

Another day, I know they say that all the world's a stage; I'll play the fool, but as a rule I'd rather act my age

Patience is not often a virtue in which I indulge. I should have done so just one more day.

The Otter has written. He has just had a chance to check mail today for the first time since last week due to his machine being a viral victim.

Of course, in his usual Otterish way, the message was polite, nice, friendly, short...and vague as to what is going on in his head. I would like to think that something is. Mrs. Mouse and another friend reminded me today of something that I should really keep in mind. The Otter, unlike most men I find myself associating with on a carnal level, is an adult with real responsibilities that need to take precedence. He just moved back into his own house after his ex-wife fully moved out. He has joint custody of his son. He is taking classes in order to get a better job that would facilitate available week-ends for travel. He is teaching a class himself. And, he's working. I should cut him major slack for many reasons. Outside of a busy schedule, he is putting his life together and in order after a pretty major series of changes. Also, as Mrs. Mouse pointed out, he may be in a position too where he is thinking seriously about what the heck, if anything, is going on between us and if he wants something to be going on or not with all of the things he's dealing with in life right now and the issues a distance thing could cause for him. I don't know.

I've learned how to deal with the boys who never want to grow up. I proved to myself that I mastered that skill at Pennsic with the puppy. I was able to win over that one with a bit of well-placed banter and sporadic dazzling lip action. Add in disappearing at moments that were most irritating for him, creating a bit of an element of a chase/hunt to pique interest and BAM! Instant devotion from a young pup.

Now, I'm dealing with a very different creature: a fully-grown adult male. I know that he has those moments of just wanting to be a kid, but they are so few and far between it seems. It completely blows me away, actually. And that, in itself, intrigues me.

I don't know what is going on. But, I must learn patience. And, well, I can hope that the Otter takes my note to use my phone number liberally seriously and maybe we can actually talk.

Something on your mind...you want to leave me behind?

I believe I have given up on the Otter now. Sad, but I have. It took four years for a man to turn my head like that. Probably will take another four or possibly more. So, yeah, time to scrimp and save money to be able to afford a family on my own.

I have to be realistic. That realism is not always optimistic.

Not much to write tonight. The boys came over and we gamed. I am no longer my group's rapier marshal. Three years in that position really was much too long. Now though, I am the new herald. And, with autocratting the spring event, that's quite a bit. However, fighting today felt so wonderfully free from worry and concern. I had fun. Really. There was just such bliss to be able to be selfish and say "Hey! I want to fight for me--to have fun! Don't look at me to run a practice here. I'm sparring." I missed that.

Yeah, I was horribly selfish, but I think that my fighting will improve because it is no longer a duty but a choice to fight. This is truly a good thing. I'll still help folks, but it will be my choice. That makes all the difference.

As the days go by, I keep thinking "When does it end?"

Wow.

A really sad thought hit me as I left the movie theatre tonight; I had what would have been the perfect date...had I actually been with anyone. I wonder if that is one of my many issues. I went out for a nice dinner and then to see a movie that I thoroughly enjoyed. As the film progressed, I found myself wishing more and more that I had someone with me. Before Pennsic, this was not as much of an issue. I often times wish that that part of me that had been opened up during Pennsic would just shut up again and let me continue a life of a pretty much solitary existence.

Needless to say...still no Otter contact.

...and watching Jet Li didn't help either with trying to forget that fact. That controlled and graceful walk was so very Otterish.

Kathleen and I had a very pleasant day together. Last night was a wee bit strange since it was definitely time for us to sort of feel each other out. After all, seven years is quite a while. Today, we wandered through Millennium Park and I took her to see the Chagal mosaic and the Picasso in the Daley Center Plaza. We then went to Marshal Field's so I could show her the mosaics in there, and we shopped for necklaces and earrings, then walked up to Loyola where we looked at churches, then over to the Hancock Building and up to the observation deck and then back to her hotel. It was there we said our goodbyes. I then continued on to dinner and to a movie and am now back here.

Life is a strange thing. I am feeling like I am struggling to get back to something. Back to a time when I didn't know so much, but still knowing what I know to keep from having to learn it the hard way. I miss innocence. I miss my former optimism. I miss being stupid at times.

Wisdom does have a cost that is more than one's youth.

I don't need your fire to drive me higher--I've got a fire that burns on its own

Quiet night. It's a Thursday.

I should have gone to work out, but I truly didn't feel up to it tonight. Just tired, really; sleepy.

Kathleen is in town. I'll be seeing her tomorrow after work for the first time since March of 1997. Has it really been over seven years? Wow. That was a fun trip to see her in California. We caught up a bit, vented a bit, drove around and simply had fun hanging out together. I recall that it was near prom-dress season, so we went to a huge mall in Sacramento and had a dress-up afternoon where we found a whole bunch of prom dresses ranging from the gorgeous to the absolute hideous and put them on for each other, trying to outdo each other on both the gorgeous and hideous ends of the scale. Another time, we went to Napa and tried to see if it was possible to pick up guys on the freeway. One handsome guy with blond hair in a Porsche raised his water-bottle to us. That was about all the action we got. Well, outside of a wine-shop guy telling us he didn't understand what the use of us going to tour a vineyard would be since we were not of legal drinking age.

Kathleen is in town with her boyfriend for a wedding he is part of. So, instead of simply tagging along at rehearsals and being with people she will probably not see again, she asked if we could meet-up. It will definitely be interesting to see her and catch up a bit. Wow. It just hit me that Kathleen and I met 10 years ago. wow.

I'm going to go feel old now.

...and wonder when or if the Otter will call. He called me young this week-end for being a mere 29 compared with his 35. *little swoon*

Would you put me up on the bookshelf with the books and the plants?

I'm finally sort of getting back into a routine. Sad to think though that a month ago, I was at Pennsic. Wow. So long ago, yet it feels so recent. I mean, I still have most of my gear in the back of the truck.

So. Still no word from the Otter. I assume I freaked him and scared him off somehow. Maybe. I dunno. I'll just continue doing what I was doing before our paths crossed each other again. Who knows what will or won't happen, right?

I haven't heard from Colin either for almost two weeks. You could hear his tail thumping the wall with happiness when I last spoke to him. Who knows?

...and most men say that women are psycho. *eye-roll*

Speaking of psycho, I finally found the proper decorations for my fencing case--to reduce the yuppie-factor of it. They are It's Happy Bunny by Blackjack Inc. Yay.

She had a dream about the King of Sweden...

Well, this morning, the Otter emailed me. It was a very short message. Nice. Polite. Not much light was shed upon what may be a situation. He did say he had fun this weekend and enjoyed fighting me. He also asked about my trip home and he would talk to me soon. Oh, and he liked my Pennsic XXXIII mix.

Not much light at all. Better than no light at all, I suppose. He didn't completely brush me off, so that is good.

tired. sleep will be a priority tonight.