Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Defaced Ace

Nameless Agent:  What's the password for WiFi here?

Me: Defaced Ace, all one word, all caps.

Nameless Agent:  What?  De -- face --

Me: Defaced Ace, all one word -- and all caps.

Nameless Agent: Okay.

Pause

Nameless Agent:  Nope -- incorrect password.  What is it?  Deface...?

Me:  (using hand gestures) Defaced Ace -- but all in one word, no spaces, and all capital letters.

Nameless Agent: Okay.  D- F...

Me:  No -- defaced.  D-E-F-A-C-E-D.

Nameless Agent: (stares blankly at me)

Me: (writing in capital letters in the air) D-E-F-A-C-E-D-A-C-E.   All one word, and all caps.

Nameless Agent:  Defaced?

Me:  Yes.

Nameless Agent:  Okay.

Pause

Nameless Agent:  Nope -- incorrect password.  Never mind.  It can wait.

Me:  Want me to enter it for you?

Nameless Agent:  Oh, yeah!  Would you?

I enter DEFACEDACE.  The computer makes a brief melodic sound.

Nameless Agent:  Oh, Face Dace!  I thought you said something else.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Me on the Weekends

I love my Sundays.  I love the fact that I get up at roughly the same time I do on a weekday -- seven, this morning -- and then have hours of quiet and stillness and peace, while my neighbors sleep.  I love that I have already taken down a load of garbage and dusted everything and redone the couch cover before I hear the floor creak upstairs.  I love that the weather continues being the weather even though I am the only one up to witness it -- the rain keeps trickling down the window, the wind blows in raggedy bursts.  I love that I can watch Perry Mason in between each job, and not feel like I am wasting my time.  I love my hot coffee, and my thin, crunchy toast, my hummus and my special, home made raspberry jam.  I love being me on the weekends.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Fallen Arches

So this is day six of wearing the arch support brace that I got last Friday.  Since the severe and increasingly crippling pain I was experiencing in my arch-foot-ankle-calf-knee, was that of a fallen arch.  You know, you read about people with fallen arches in books, and they are always either men who can't get accepted into the army, or elderly fat ladies with spoiled poodles, who make rich fruitcakes.  I do make the worlds's best fruitcake, even though I hate it, personally, so I guess I had better just give up and start spoiling some poodles.

However, the degree of pain that this condition was causing me was really an eye-opener.  I mean, I had to limp heavily everywhere I went, sometimes I could not go down stairs without hanging on to the wall,  I had difficultly moving in bed at night, since every shift sent severe pan rocketing down my leg -- it was a serious thing.  And getting slightly worse every day.

But now, with the brace filling in for the actual arch, the pain is getting slightly better every day.  Today I notice that I can walk, still more heavily than I would like, but almost naturally!  I sleep much better, and don't have suppressed shrieks filling my inner ear.  I can sit comfortably in my chair, no matter which chair it is, since I'm not aware, constantly, of the pain in my foot and leg.  It's possible that I am going to be able to live out my life in some degree of normalcy, instead of as an agonized, mean-spirited and very fat lady!

I am going to have to get some new shoes, however.  And I can't just wear whatever shows up in my size at the Sally Army.  I need to buy some ankle boots.  The ones I am wearing are coming apart, since they were second-hand when I got them, and anyway, are a startling orange suede.  Not the best for my quiet, mostly dark clothing choices.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Morning Delight

Every morning when I begin my drive to work, I suppress a momentary frisson of excitement.  Because, come on, I'm just on my way to my place of employment, the spot where I labor, in order to be given money, with which to pay my bills.  

Right?  

But no -- because what I am actually looking forward to, is the drive itself, and the morning hours that I am alone in the office at the computer.

The drive, is going to be pleasant, non-scary, non-crowded, and beautiful.  Every morning, whatever the weather.  I go overland and avoid all congestion, love the flickering raindrops or bursts of wind, or dancing tree branches or swaying circle of leaves.  I have the power of an automobile under my hands, and can, by quick small movements, traverse the corners and hills with ease, and dryness and no effort.

And the morning hours, when I am in the office early, are a delight as well, since I have online access and talk to myself, as I am doing now, with my fingertips.  I can see what my friends and family and acquaintanceship are doing with their time, and comment on it, and I can look at pictures of things that make me feel stuff.  All very happy ways to spend one's time.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

American Woman

So.  On the list of "Ten Best Countries for Women" this year, where do you think America falls?

Anyone?


Nope.  It's not even on the list

The top five are Scandinavia plus Iceland, which I'm never sure whether it's Scandinavian or not.  But then comes Rwanda and Nicaragua and Ireland -- three places I would not have dreamt could be there -- because come on, genocide and drug cartels and The Troubles and Catholicism?  And we are really not better places to live and work than they are?

Sobering and infuriating.  Makes me want to rush out and volunteer somewhere, doing something.  But what?

I'm currently reading Terry Bisson's 1988 book, "Fire on the Mountain" which is an "Alternate History" novel, about what the world would be like if John Brown's attack on Harper's Ferry had been a success, and slavery had ended so much sooner.  This is one of the books I added to my library list because Jo Walton, a favorite author of mine, liked it a lot.  And I am really enjoying it.  Oddly, I have just returned to the library, the recently published book "The Good Lord Bird", which is also about Harper's Ferry, and Old John Brown.  Written from the point of view of a slave boy, who is passing as a girl.  Not the other way around.  Strange!  And, as I said, odd, since I haven't seen a book about this time in history for many years, and here I have two, in the same week.

Hallowe'en coming up!  My costume is ready, just needs to be assembled.  My apartment building's party is a murder mystery theme, and this year it's Death at the Deadwood Saloon.  I'm Poker Alice, a poker dealer with a secret.  Should be fun!

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Pedestrian Foolishness

This morning, on my way to work, I was driving down Burnside, approaching the bridge -- green lights all the way.  It's still fairly dark at seven-ish in the morning, now that Autumn is here, and that morning was even darker, since it was overcast.  I was therefore unable to see any details of the woman who stepped into the street in front of me, as I approached the last light.  She was heavy, with thin legs, and a fairly large topknot-style bun, and she was hurrying, but not nearly fast enough to justify crossing, unnecessarily, in front of traffic, against the lights.  A few seconds wait would have given her a traffic-crossing signal.  As it was, I had to break hard and heavily, and my car skidded a tiny bit.  I didn't hit her, though, and was able to continue on my way, shortly, with a pounding heart.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Jo Walton and her Love of Sci-Fi

Reading Jo Walton's collection of blog posts this morning, and fell prey once again to the inherent flaw in -- not her writing, but in my reading of it.  Since she is a writer I particularly enjoy, and seems to think in ways that I think, and reads voraciously and as if it is her life she is living on the pages, I assume (and there's that naughty word once again) that her brain and mine are similar.  So when she is enthusiastically discussing her favorite literature -- science fiction -- with such detail and dedication, I get swept up in it and feel that somehow, I have just always been unlucky up til now, when reading science fiction.  Because even though I love the ideas behind it, as a genre, and the "other world-liness" it presents, like a good fantasy, and even though very occasionally I have been impressed by it to the point of buying it and keeping it, for the most part it is Extremely Disappointing.  EXTREMELY. 

But now, I have come to the library, and enthusiastically put several books she discusses, on my waiting list, even though part of my mind feels sure, feels certain, knows beyond any reasonable doubt, that I am going to be unhappy again.