deathpixie | Reading

Job One: Remember that Computers Are Stupid

Job Two: bake Bob's favorite cookies to thank him for setting up my new laptop, and putting up with the occasional stupidity that's part of dealing with ones and zeroes.

We both knew it would take a couple of days, or even more than that, and I'm trying to be patient as he preps the new one (an Asus Vivo) so that we can download all my files from my slowly dying Lenovo, files that have been downloaded onto a delightful little red portable 2T hard drive.

That drive may will come in handy after the transfer, since I might need to keep it connected to my new laptop for a few weeks, or maybe months. My Lenovo has 1.82 T of storage, whilst my Asus only has 1T. We'll eventually see about getting a new, larger, drive in the Asus, but I don't foresee me using up the 1T of storage the Asus has.

I've named the little hard drive Ada, and my new laptop is officially Alice-Alyx. It's the first time I've named a laptop, but it seemed the right thing to do with this one. I'm laughing a bit at myself, but hell, why not name some things that will help keep me happy for a good long time?

Now one of the remaining questions is whether Alice-Alyx will recognize my Samsung Galaxy ear buds. We tried to get them paired up yesterday, and the Asus laughed at us. Once again, I'm reminded that computers are stupid; they only do what we tell their ones and zeroes to do.

In the non-computer part of the weekend, I was able to get in touch with a skiffy fannish acquaintance whose holiday card came back to me a bit ago. It turns out that he and his partner had indeed moved from the address I had for him, so I can send him something soon, and most definitely this coming holiday season.

I also cleaned the bathroom, and sorted a small mountain of paperwork that had grown so high it was in danger of toppling over. I'm terrible at organizing and sorting, but I managed to do it today. I'm inordinately proud of myself. (I probably shouldn't be quite so loudly proud, because the universe will undoubtedly send something my way to punish me for such hubris. Heh.)

So that's my excitement for the weekend, and I am very happy that that's the most excitement I've had to deal with. Compared to this time last week, it's easy-peasy.

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Cyber Jazz/Blues Ambient Radio

andraste

I wrote three Candy Hearts treats this year!

Battement d'ailes (750 words) by Andraste
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Red Shoes (1948)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Relationships: Julian Craster/Victoria Page & Boris Lermontov
Characters: Boris Lermontov, Julian Craster, Victoria Page
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Canonical Character Death, Suicide, Candy Hearts treat
Summary:

The beating of wings.

(Or: a The Red Shoes daemonverse AU.)

À la carte (1001 words) by Andraste
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Shock.wav & The Vees
Characters: Shock.wav, Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette (Hazbin Hotel)
Additional Tags: Val is briefly weird about food, Candy Hearts treat
Summary:

Shock.wav is a growing ~~boy~~ ~~dog~~ shark dog thing. Just as well there's always someone around the tower to feed him, whether they meant to or not.

Menuet (1806 words) by Andraste
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Anora Mac Tir/Celene Valmont
Characters: Anora Mac Tir, Celene Valmont
Additional Tags: Accidental First Date, Or Is It?, Candy Hearts treat
Summary:

A map is not the territory.

Or: the diplomatic talks between Ferelden and Orlais that take place during Inquisition take a turn.

kaffy_r

Well Done, Thou Good and Faithful Servant

The Rev. Jesse Jackson has died at the age of 84. We were driving north on Ashland Avenue when the word came over the radio. I gasped, and did that "Nooo!" thing that's so cliche, but proof that cliches have their roots in truth.

I knew he was old; I knew he had progressive supranuclear palsy; I knew he could no longer walk or speak, this man whose oratory raised the hopes, dreams and resistance of so many black, brown, and marginalized people. I knew he was going to die. But I didn't want it to happen.

I knew he was a complex man. I knew he was vain. I knew he was a little apt to enlarge himself in many instances. I knew he'd made antisemitic comments years ago; I knew he felt sidelined by Barack Obama's presidential campaign, after doing the hard work of paving the way for a black president with his own two surprisingly successful campaigns in 1984 and 1988. I knew he'd had a child out of wedlock.

But he didn't let his vanity outpace his love for others. He relearned humility and other lessons after each misstep. I knew he acknowledged and supported his natural daughter. I knew he was a gifted organizer as well as an orator, I knew he visited Cook County jail every Christmas when others might have - indeed had - forgotten those men. I knew he walked the walk as well as talked the talk. And there's another cliche that has its root in truth.

I met him three times. Once, on the street, heading for Grant Park, the night Obama won the presidency in 2008. He took my questions, brief as they were, and answered me in as thoughtful a way as one can in about 30 seconds. I met him a second time when he spoke to students at Niles West High School in Skokie, a significantly Jewish community. I met him a final time, at a Wilmette synagogue, where he spoke, his voice already being conquered by his illness. He would never have remembered me, but I remembered him.

I'm not black. I'm not really poor. I have privilege that he never had. But I remember his "I am Somebody." I remember. And I cry.

I'm not a Christian believer, not really, not for years. But I can hope that if the God he tried so hard to honor is there somewhere, when the Rev. Jesse Jackson reaches the seat of the Lord, that Lord will look to him and say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant."

Here is what an excellent Chicago writer, Neil Steinberg has to say about Rev. Jackson, who was, and is, quintessentially Chicago. And here is a link to a local CBS News special on him.

Current Music: Remembering Jesse Jackson

kaffy_r

He Woke Up

I awoke at about 6:15 p.m. to feed the cat, and after a night of night sweats (further, deponent saith naught because, eeuww, TMI) and dread about which Bob would greet me when he woke, I couldn't get back to sleep. I got up and tried to catch up on far too many emails. "Catch up on" quickly devolved into pitching most of the 650+ emails into the aether,

Then I thought about updating Bob's doctors on the newest situation - him being home. I finally did that, but not before fearing that Bob wouldn't easily wake, or maybe he'd regress to not waking up at all, when I brought him coffee.

He woke up.

And he got up. And got dressed, and talked to me, and joked, and was there. All there.

Another episode gone? Well, we thought it was gone back in January, and it came back, but I'm choosing to believe in hope this time. And it was a delight to be able to tell people from that damned hospital, and from one of the rehab places I was gearing up to tour that we didn't seem to have a need for them. I will also cancel the tour of another rehab place that I'd set up for Wednesday.

I hope I'm not jinxing everything, but again, I'm choosing to believe in hope this time.

That doesn't mean our work is done. We have got to figure out what the fuck goes on in BB's body to throw him into confusion, weakness and aphasia, and why it was so bad this time. There has to be a reason, or even more than one reason. So that's on the to-do list. But Sunday is a day of rest, so I will rest, watching Bob at his computer, and urging me to read the political columns he's sending me. It feels like home again.

Current Mood: thankful
Current Music: Hwa Sa/Hwasa "LMM"

the_siobhan

Dear Father, it has been a month since my last confession.

I am so tired, y'all. I've been working overtime for the past three weeks trying to stash some money away for the inevitable basement bullshit and it's been exhausting. (You wouldn't think a job that requires sitting at a desk would be tiring, but I feel like somebody threw sand in my eyes by the end of the day.)

Permit-wrangler is still trying to find an engineer. Apparently the problem is that I can't just dig a hole and have an engineer look at it and yes the foundations are good, they have to figure out how to reverse-engineer whatever was done to create new drawings - and that's going to be expensive regardless.

I sicc'd permit-wrangler on the engineer who got the original permits. "Tell him if he helps me out I might leave him out of the lawsuit."

***

I looked out my window this morning and there was a huge raptor in the trees behind my house. Couldn't get a clear enough view to make a guess at what it was but at least twice the size of the red-tail hawks I normally see back there.

I reiterated to the venerable Lord Brock that no, he is not going outside no matter how much he bonks his head on the window. (He is enormously offended by the squirrels.)

***

Last time I visited my dad I took my laptop over and started quizzing him about family. His memory is shot, but he does remember incidents from his childhood. What's hilarious is that he remembers the kids who pissed him off - I suggested one possible connection and he was all, "Oh yeah, Joey, he visited from the States. What a little prick."

He also remembered the aunt who baked cookies and the heavy-drinking aunt who was a huge bruiser and all the men were afraid of her. So if they left an impression he had me stories about them, even if he doesn't remember how they're related to him.

***

Somebody here was talking about how Skip The Dishes made up a new address for them, and it reminded me that I had the exact experience last time I ordered from them. The system sent the driver to an address a couple of blocks away and I only caught it because I got the ping that the order was five minutes away and when I looked at the map I didn't recognize the streets.

Calling their customer service did nothing because the driver was already showing as "arrived". But as soon as I hung up I got a call from the driver because the address they had given him was a park, so I was able to redirect him and get my food after all.

***

We have reached the part of the winter where I start to worry that I have run out of places to put snow. My yard is maybe five feet square and the snow is already piled up in a pyramid.

I keep wanting to go out with a hose and ice it up and build an igloo or something.

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