C'est What?

Music Meme

2005-08-25T21:17:16Z

Whee! An update! I must be feverish! *g*

My evil twin has been busy in other corners of fandom, but it's about time I finally got around to posting something here, isn't it?

From my beloved odogoddess (isn't it nice we're so musically compatible...most of the time?), who got it from sio (Heya, honey - more 80's tunes ahoy! *g*)

When I graduated from high school, I got a summer job working at the brand new Mervyn's in town. The paint was barely dry, and we had to stock the store from the ground up. They played the local Top 40 station incessantly. Some of these were seared into my neural pathways.

Go here:
http://www.musicoutfitters.com/

In the "Search" box in the upper LEFT hand corner, enter the year you graduated from high school. The first item returned should be the 100 songs from that year. Cut and paste them into your journal.

Bold the ones you like.
Underline your favorite.
Strike through the songs you loathe.
Italicize the ones you can't remember.
Leave it untagged if you're without an opinion.

1. When Doves Cry, Prince
2. What's Love Got To Do With It, Tina Turner
3. ~~Say Say Say, Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson~~
4. Footloose, Kenny Loggins (Oh, jeez, I like it, I just can't hear it without wanting to grab up all the loose paper around me and march to the nearest exit - this was our "trash parade" song! *G*)
5. Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now), Phil Collins
6. Jump, Van Halen
7. Hello, Lionel Richie
8. Owner Of A Lonely Heart, Yes
9. Ghostbusters, Ray Parker Jr.
10. Karma Chameleon, Culture Club
11. Missing You, John Waite
12. All Night Long (All Night), Lionel Richie
13. Let's Hear It For The Boy, Deniece Williams
14. Dancing In The Dark, Bruce Springsteen
15. Girls Just Want To Have Fun, Cyndi Lauper
16. The Reflex, Duran Duran
17. Time After Time, Cyndi Lauper
18. Jump (For My Love), Pointer Sisters
19. Talking In Your Sleep, Romantics
20. Self Control, Laura Branigan
21. Let's Go Crazy, Prince and The Revolution
22. Say It Isn't So, Daryl Hall and John Oates
23. Hold Me Now, Thompson Twins
24. Joanna, Kool and The Gang
25. I Just Called To Say I Love You, Stevie Wonder
26. Somebody's Watching Me, Rockwell
27. Break My Stride, Matthew Wilder
28. 99 Luftballons, Nena
29. I Can Dream About You, Dan Hartman
30. The Glamorous Life, Sheila E.
31. Oh Sherrie, Steve Perry
32. Stuck On You, Lionel Richie
33. I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues, Elton John
34. She Bop, Cyndi Lauper
35. Borderline, Madonna
36. Sunglasses At Night, Corey Hart
37. Eyes Without A Face, Billy Idol
38. Here Comes The Rain Again, Eurythmics
39. Uptown Girl, Billy Joel
40. Sister Christian, Night Ranger
41. Drive, Cars
42. Twist Of Fate, Olivia Newton-John
43. Union Of The Snake, Duran Duran
44. The Heart Of Rock 'N' Roll, Huey Lewis and The News
45. Hard Habit To Break, Chicago
46. The Warrior, Scandal
47. If Ever You're In My Arms Again, Peabo Bryson
48. Automatic, Pointer Sisters
49. Let The Music Play, Shannon
50. To All The Girls I've Loved Before, Julio Iglesias and Willie Nelson
51. Caribbean Queen, Billy Ocean
52. That's All, Genesis
53. Running With The Night, Lionel Richie
54. Sad Songs (Say So Much), Elton John (And now I will have "Sasson Says So Much!" stuck in my head, thankyouverymuch. Sigh.)
55. I Want A New Drug, Huey Lewis and The News
56. Islands In The Stream, Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton
57. Love Is A Battlefield, Pat Benatar
58. Infatuation, Rod Stewart
59. Almost Paradise, Mike Reno and Ann Wilson
60. Legs, ZZ Top
61. ~~State Of Shock, Jacksons~~
62. Love Somebody, Rick Springfield
63. Miss Me Blind, Culture Club
64. If This Is It, Huey Lewis and The News
65. You Might Think, Cars
66. Lucky Star, Madonna
67. Cover Me, Bruce Springsteen
68. Cum On Feel The Noize, Quiet Riot
69. ~~Breakdance, Irene Cara~~
70. Adult Education, Daryl Hall and John Oates
71. ~~They Don't Know, Tracy Ullman~~
72. An Innocent Man, Billy Joel
73. Cruel Summer, Bananarama
74. Dance Hall Days, Wang Chung
75. Give It Up, K.C.
76. I'm So Excited, Pointer Sisters
77. I Still Can't Get Over Loving You, Ray Parker Jr.
78. Thriller, Michael Jackson
79. Holiday, Madonna
80. Breakin'... There's No Stopping Us, Ollie And Jerry
81. Nobody Told Me, John Lennon
82. Church Of The Poison Mind, Culture Club
83. Think Of Laura, Christopher Cross
84. Time Will Reveal, Debarge
85. Wrapped Around Your Finger, Police
86. Pink Houses, John Cougar Mellencamp
87. Round And Round, Ratt
88. Head Over Heels, Go-Go's
89. The Longest Time, Billy Joel
90. Tonight, Kool and The Gang
91. Got A Hold On Me, Christine McVie
92. Dancing In The Sheets, Shalamar
93. Undercover Of The Night, Rolling Stones
94. On The Dark Side, John Cafferty and The Beaver Brown Band
95. New Moon On Monday, Duran Duran
96. Major Tom (Coming Home), Peter Schilling
97. Magic, Cars
98. When You Close Your Eyes, Night Ranger
99. Rock Me Tonite, Billy Squier
100. Yah Mo B There, James Ingram and Michael McDonald

It never rains, but it pours.

2005-06-16T00:53:10Z

Aunt T's back in the hospital. odogoddess has already posted about it here. I talked to the nurse a bit ago, and Aunt T's had an angiogram and some other work to deal with a blood clot, and apparently she was cracking jokes right after the procedure, so the outlook's pretty good.

Now, if we could just convince her to quit smoking.

I have to admit that arguing the health risks of cigarettes with an 87-year-old woman who's been smoking since she was 16 or so is rather an exercise in futility. Maybe odogoddess and I should take up smoking and drinking {{{shudder}}} Budweiser, too. It might be the secret to longevity! (Well, okay, probably not. Just as well. Nasty stuff!)

In other news, I have some nice, detailed notes on a couple of the costumes we saw when we visited the Harry Potter museum on the Warner Bros. Studio tour. I'll have to transcribe and post them soon. I wish they had let us take pictures, even if it was without flash, but being able to get within a half-inch of the costumes was absolutely amazing, anyway.

Meme time again

2005-05-11T20:27:31Z

From insanity__inc by way of odogoddess

Bold the ones you've seen. Add some if you like. Italicize the
ones you add.

01.Trainspotting
02. Shrek
03. Memento
04. Dogma
05. Strictly Ballroom
06. The Princess Bride
07. Love Actually
08. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings
09. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
10. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
11. Reservoir Dogs
12. Desperado
13. Swordfish
14. Kill Bill Vol. 1
15. Donnie Darko
16. Spirited Away
17. Better Than Sex
18. Sleepy Hollow
19. Pirates of the Caribbean
20. The Eye
21. Requiem for a Dream
22. Dawn of the Dead
23. The Pillow Book
24. The Italian Job
25. Goonies
26. BASEketball
27. The Spice Girls Movie
28. Army of Darkness
29. The Color Purple
30. The Safety of Objects
31. Can't Hardly Wait
32. Mystic Pizza
33. Finding Nemo
34. Monsters Inc.
35. Circle of Friends
36. Mary Poppins
37. The Bourne Identity
38. Forrest Gump
39. A Clockwork Orange
40. Kindergarten Cop
41. On The Line
42. My Big Fat Greek Wedding
43. Final Destination
44. Sorority Boys
45. Urban Legend
46. Cheaper by the Dozen the original (b&w)
47. Fierce Creatures
48. Dude, Where's My Car
49. Ladyhawke
50. Ghostbusters
51. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
52. Back to the Future
53. An Affair To Remember
54. Somewhere In Time
55. North By Northwest
56. Moulin Rouge
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
58. The Wizard of Oz
59. Zoolander
60. A Walk to Remember
61. Chicago
62. Vanilla Sky
63. The Sweetest Thing
64. Don't Tell Mom the Babysitters Dead
65. The Nightmare Before Christmas
66. Chasing Amy
67. Edward Scissorhands
67. Battle Royale
68. Kill Bill Vol. 2
69. Fight Club
70. Clerks
71. The Crow
72. Get Real
73. Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone
74. Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban
75. Wake
76. Silence of the Lambs
77. Pulp Fiction
78. The Crying Game
79. Amlie
80. Hedwig and the Angry Inch
81. Happy Campers
82. Velvet Goldmine
83. Elephant
84. Peter Pan
85. Camp
86. Particles of Truth
87. The Godfather
88. Big Fish
89. The Passion of the Christ
90. Close Encounters of the Third Kind
91. The Neverending Story
92. The Breakfast Club
93. Newsies
94. Princess Mononoke
95. The Prince of Egypt
96. Grease
97. The Hidden Fortress
98. Troy
99. It Happened One Night
100. Hackers
101. Dead Poets Society
102. Ghost Ship
103. The Wedding Banquet
104. The Red Violin
105. The Beach
106. The Women
107. Run Lola Run
108. The Quiet Man
109. X-Men
110. X-2
111. Spiderman
112. Punch Drunk Love
113. From Dusk 'Til Dawn
114. Joe Vs. The Volcano
115. Meet Joe Black
116. Gregory's Girl
117. In the Time of the Butterflies
118. The Butterfly Effect
119. Dirty Dancing
120. Final Destination 2
121. Rosemary's Baby
122. Spider-Man 2
123. Practical Magic
124. A Shark Tale
125. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
126. A Beautiful Mind
127. About a Boy
128.Ocean's Eleven
129. Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle
130. Aladdin
131. Titus(w/ Anthony Hopkins)
132. Audrey Rose
133. The Crow
134. Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
135. Dogma repeat of #4
136. Spaceballs
137. The Silence of the Lambs repeat of #76
138. Lethal Weapon 4.
139. Hamlet (Mel Gibson)
140. Richard the Third
150. Shawshank Redemption
151. Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortuante Events
152. Pee-Wee's Big Adventure
153. Dark Harbor
154. Ponette
155. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
156. Hatari
157. The Accidental Tourist
158. Gosford Park
159. Good-bye Charlie
160. First Monday In October
161. Donovan's Reef
162. Blow Dry
163. Better Than Chocolate
164. The Adventures of Robin Hood (Errol Flynn)
165. Fitzwilly

And courtesy of odogoddess

Emo Kid
You are 42% Rational, 14% Extroverted, 42% Brutal, and 28% Arrogant.

You are the Emo Kid, best described as a quiet pussy! You tend to be an intuitive rather than a logical thinker, meaning you rely more on your feelings than your thoughts. Not only that, but you are introverted, gentle, and rather humble. You embody all the traits of the perfect emo kid. You are a push-over, emotional, gentle to the extent of absurdity, and so humble that it even makes Jesus puke. If you write poetry, you no doubt write angsty, syrupy lines about depression, sadness, and other such redundant states of emo-being. Your personality is defective because you are too gentle, rather underconfident in yourself, decidely lacking in any rational thought, and also a bit too inhibited.

I probably made you cry, didn't I? Fucking Emo Kid.

To put it less negatively:

1. You are more INTUITIVE than rational.

2. You are more INTROVERTED than extroverted.

3. You are more GENTLE than brutal.

4. You are more HUMBLE than arrogant.

Compatibility:

Your exact opposite is the Smartass.

Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Hippie, the Televangelist, and the Starving Artist.

If you scored near fifty percent for a certain trait (42%-58%), you could very well go either way. For example, someone with 42% Extroversion is slightly leaning towards being an introvert, but is close enough to being an extrovert to be classified that way as well. Below is a list of the other personality types so that you can determine which other possible categories you may fill if you scored near fifty percent for certain traits.

The other personality types:

The Emo Kid: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Starving Artist: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Bitch-Slap: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Brute: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Hippie: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Televangelist: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Schoolyard Bully: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Class Clown: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Robot: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Haughty Intellectual: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Spiteful Loner: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Sociopath: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Hand-Raiser: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Braggart: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Capitalist Pig: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Smartass: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 13% on Rationality

You scored higher than 14% on Extroversion

You scored higher than 43% on Brutality

You scored higher than 27% on Arrogance

Link: The Personality Defect Test written by saint_gasoline on Ok Cupid

Cat Psychology 101

2005-05-09T19:51:43Z

Ever since odogoddess and I brought Percy home from her mom's house to live with us, I've been learning fascinating things about the workings of the feline mind. For example - everything is a cat toy. Things which the cat does not play with are only cat toys that have either become boring, or which have not yet been discovered by the cat. Simple things like that are fairly easy for the lesser-evolved human brain to grasp. It's the higher workings of the feline psyche that really fascinate me...

When Percy first settled in to his new home, we went out and bought him a food and water dispenser set - the food dispenser would hold about 5lbs of kibble, if filled all the way, and the water dispenser probably holds a gallon or so. We figured it'd make things convenient, especially if we had to leave him for a day or two, now and again. The water dispenser he didn't like much; I think it got stale-tasting too quick, so we switched to a plain water bowl, and he also drinks out of any tap that happens to have a slight drip.

The food dispenser, on the other hand, worked out great - Percy's a nibbler, and always having food available for a quick crunchy or two when he walks by is convenient for him and for us. If his Mama and I (loyal catslave that I try to be) failed to notice when all the food in the reservoir had gone down, and there was only a bowlful left, His Feline Majesty lost no time in pointing out to us that we'd fallen down on the job, to his extreme displeasure.

"Mmmmehhhhh!!! Yowrl! Mr'yowww!!! Meeeee!"

"There is NO FOOD! There is only a cupful of already-cracked kibble crumbs! I STARVE!!! Fill the feeder, worthless slave! Now!" (Rough translation, based on context.)

And of course we would hop to it and fill the feeder, he would strop and head-butt in royal appreciation, and order would be restored to the universe. Percy is a slender cat - he only weighs about 9lbs, and he could probably stand to put on weight, but despite having a continual supply of food and whatever treats he can cadge out of us, he stays fairly slim. However...

We had a bit of a problem with ants and a few determined spiders last month, so we decided to bug-bomb the house. Since odogoddess has trouble with most of the sprays, we needed to stay out for a couple of days and really let the house air out before it would be livable again. We figured we'd get a hotel room for a couple of nights.

Leeta was okay - the weather had been mild and she normally stays outside unless it's cold or rainy, so all we had to do was make sure to come by and pet her, feed her and check her water.

For Percy, we had the options of either boarding him, or taking him with us. We decided it'd be less traumatic to take him along, so we did, and it worked out okay. He was a bit perturbed with us, but seemed to have forgiven us by the time we brought him back home. I washed out his water dish and refilled it, and picked up his feeder. Since it had to be disassembled and washed, I set it aside, washed out one of his "snack" bowls, filled it with kibble and set it down for him.

Sounds simple, right?

I thought everything was fine, but odogoddess told me the next day that Percy'd been throwing up. Hm. He didn't seem to be feeling bad, but he upchucked his food a couple of times, so we figured we'd better keep an eye on him, in case there was some pesticide residue bothering him. His bowl was almost empty, so I refilled it. Still hadn't gotten around to taking the feeder apart and cleaning it, but hey, he didn't seem to mind the snack bowl...

It wasn't until a few days later that I noticed I was having to refill that bowl a lot. As soon as the bottom of the bowl became visible, Percy would start complaining.

"MROWRRR! MEeeehh! Yowwrrrl! Wahhhhh!"

The BOWL is EMPTY! I will STARVE! FEEED MEEEE! (Again, loose translation - they didn't offer Feline at my high school.)

I thought maybe I'd just never noticed how much Percy really ate, since he'd been using the feeder all the time. The bowl was pretty small; maybe I just had to keep filling it because it didn't hold much...but then I realized the sack of cat food - that normally lasts him almost a month - was 3/4 empty already.

%-/

Humans, in comparison to felines, are sadly slow on the uptake. Until I picked him up one day and realized he was heavy, I didn't understand what was going on. I pointed it out to odogoddess and we've been watching in fascination/amusement/annoyance/concern for the past week. Percy's reasoning on this issue apparently goes something like this:

1) Food! I will eat!

2) :nibble, nibble, nibble:

3) OMG! I can see the bottom of the Bowl!

4) Soon, there will be NO FOOD! Woe!

5) I must eat all I can, because of the looming TIME OF NO FOOD!

6) :scarf, scarf, scarf, crunch, crunch, crunch, gobble, gobble gobble:

6a) (optional) I feel a little too full... :BARF!:

6b) (optional) I feel sleepy... :waddle, waddle, waddle: :SNORE!:

7) OMG!!! The BOWL IS EMPTY!!! The TIME OF NO FOOD HAS COME!!!!

8) Mama!!! Catslave!!! Feed me! I'm going to STARVE! There's no FOOD in the BOWL! I'm going to DIE!!!

9) Oh, the glorious sound of kibble being poured into the Bowl!

10) Repeat steps 1-10.

He's on special kibble we have to get from the vet, and by the time we'd figured all this out, the bag was down to a scant handful and the vet had closed. Nevertheless, last night I took his feeder apart, carefully washed, rinsed and dried it, and poured that handful of kibble into it.

He started eating right away, but I noticed he didn't spend too long at the feeder. I heard him crunching kibble a couple times during the night, but there was still kibble in the bowl of the feeder this morning.

I stopped by the vet and got him a fresh sack, so I can fill up the Sacred Dispenser of Food for his Royal Catliness. Hopefully, this will ease his neurosis a bit. If not, he'll probably weigh 20 lbs by the end of the month. *g*

ETA: I really should have noted that J's allergies - which include a very severe one to cat fluids - made it impossible for her to handle the feeder disassembly, cleaning, etc, without gloves, which we didn't have on hand and which I kept forgetting to pick up. Even with gloves, she really shouldn't be breathing in the combination of pesticide, kibble dust, cat spit, soap and bleach that cleaning that thing involved. Sorry, chere!

Hm...well, I wouldn't toss him out of the kitchen...

2005-04-13T06:15:29Z

You are MING TSAI, host of "East Meets
West" and "Ming's Quest"! You
are one of the most celebrated avant-garde
asian-french fusion chefs in the world.
Combining your Asian roots with your studies in
France gives you a bold spirit, which helps you
take chances. Youre adventurous, free-spirited
and creative. Who cares if youre popular or
not? Youre doing what you want, in your own
way, and loving it!

Which Food Network Personality are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I dunno about the avant-garde asian-french fusion thing...unless you interpret it broadly enough to mean I'll throw all sorts of things together and call it "dinner." *g*

The where've you been? meme

2005-03-21T22:56:52Z

Gacked from odogoddess

Meme instructions: bold the states you've been to, underline the states you've lived in and italicize the state you're in now...

Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington D.C. /

Hm. Well, 13 out of 51 isn't too bad. Sadly, for some of them, all I've seen has been the inside of an airport and whatever showed through the windows, but still...

ETA: Make that 14 out of 51. As odogoddess pointed out, I forgot about Missouri. My bad. I shouldn't ought to forget Missouri, my grandmother was born there.

Gone Through a Gate...

2005-03-17T22:38:49Z

André Norton passed away this morning. She was 93.

There's a nice obit here.

I think André Norton was my first real exposure to science fiction. My grandfather was a huge Norton fan, and as a little kid, I could hardly wait until I was deemed old enough to read Grandpa's books (Without any pictures! Amazing! *smile*) He tried starting me off with Ice Crown, and I read it, but it really didn't hook me.

So the next one was Here Abide Monsters. Now that one...that one hooked me good. Probably because the main female character had a Pekingese, and there happened to be two of the imperious little mutts running our household at the time, but I loved the concept of people from different places and times falling through into a different world and having to learn to live together. And it taught me something about human nature, when I wanted to smack some of the characters for being so adamantly against anything unfamiliar and different about the world in which they found themselves.

Grandpa gave me Witch World to read, not long after that. I think I went through the whole Witch World series (or as much of it as had been written by then) in about a week. Possibly less. I think it was Summer, and I could stay up reading half the night if I wanted to. And then Forerunner, and The Crystal Gryphon, and Beastmaster, and the Time Traders books, and Octagon Magic and so many more.

I moved on to other authors and got my exposure to "heavier" fantasy and harder science fiction, but Norton was my first, and she was gentle and loving with me. She showed me the Gates into worlds uncharted, and I'll always be grateful.

I hope she and Grandpa have a marvelous time talking and visiting all her myriad worlds.

Yay!

2005-03-14T21:45:40Z

Court Rules Against California Ban on Gay Marriage

Oh, wow!

I'm really proud of 'em, bless their little hearts!

Okay. Next step, CA Supreme Court!

Why they say "No news is good news"

2005-01-27T06:38:04Z

Wow. Been a long time since I posted here, hasn't it? It only stands to reason that the only reason I'm getting around to it tonight is to pass on news that's not any fun at all. :-P

odogoddess is sick. She's been feeling kinda lousy since last week, then on Sunday she got a killer headache, body aches and other assorted goodies to go with it. Since she'd already scheduled an appointment for today (the soonest they'd had, when she called last week), she decided to tough it out until then.

Yeah, I know, I probably should have dragged her to the ER...but neither one of us was raised that way, and it's a hard decision to make. More on that philosophy in some other post.

So, anyway, we went to the Dr. this afternoon and the Dr. was unpleased, to say the least. She also gave us holy whatfor for not going to the ER, and said if odogoddess's oxygenation levels weren't up to snuff, she was going to send her there right away.

Well, they were okay...by .03.

So she had a breathing treatment and was given some sample meds and prescriptions and enjoined to get a chest x-ray first thing in the morning and then come back to the Dr. Herein fail not, at your peril. Or something like that. We both think she suspects pneumonia.

(I've had a dringk, just in case it shows...)

So.

So we got home and got her back to bed and fed and medicated and now she's trying to sleep. I called Aunt T and odogoddess's mom, just to keep them in the loop. And e-mailed my office I'd be out tomorrow. And fed the dog and fielded a follow-up call from the Dr, who wanted to be sure that if she got any worse we'd go to the ER. Yes, I promise!

And then I had a drink. Just one. I figured I was tired enough that two woudl knock me out. Which doesn't sound like such a bad idea, right now.

Lordy, I'm tired.

Anyway, more news as soon as it's available. odogoddess says "Hi!" and waves feebly from her bed of sickness to all her online friends, so if you care to pass it on to any of her-and-your mutual friends who won't see this, please feel free. And if you've got an extra erg of good intentions or prayers or reiki or whatever else that might be helpful, just lying around the house, taking up space and getting dusty and all...we'd certainly appreciate it.

Take care guys, I'm going to let the dog in and go sack out, myownself.

Tired makes you cold...

2004-12-20T18:30:11Z

Well, that was really not the way I wanted us to spend the last weekend before Christmas.

We were invited to submit a Phase II bid for the project I'm managing at work, which was cause for much rejoicing, all around. The only catch was, we hadn't got the data we needed to make significant progress on Phase I yet, and we didn't get it until the second week of December.

The Phase II proposal is due today.

So the last couple of weeks have been...busy. And this weekend...ugh.

Here at work until 10:00pm Friday night, then more proposal work at home until the wee hours.

On Saturday, J came into the office with me around 2pm and we didn't leave (other than to go eat, occasionally) until nearly 6am Sunday.

Caught a few hours of sleep and headed back to work Sunday afternoon.

I finally finished the proposal around 6 this morning. We've been here all night and poor J is now sleeping in the car. I've just got to wait for one of my colleagues to get here, read the damned thing and give me any edits he comes up with, then we can submit the bloody thing and go HOME.

God, I'm tired. My fingers feel like ice, and when I walked down the hallway a bit ago, it was far closer to staggering than actual walking.

And I have almost all my Christmas shopping yet to do...

Seriously in need of something or other...

2004-12-07T01:23:04Z

A stiff drink, possibly, or a swift kick in the rear.

I was miserably sick from last Wednesday through the weekend, trailing off to sinus annoyance on Sunday evening and now just a few leftover snurfles. My poor, beloved J looked after me and has now caught the foul plague herself. {{{J}}}

But now I have no energy. I have all sorts of stuff I need to do, both at work and at home, some time-critical and some downright urgent, and I have absolutely zero impetus to do any of it.

This is ridiculous! I mean, how can you have @#%^@#$% writer's block on a damned technical proposal? It's not as if it needs to be creative! :-P

:sigh:

I guess the cold took more out of me than I'd realized.

All I want to do is go home, have a bowl of the soup that's been simmering in the crockpot all day, curl up into a ball and ignore everything.

Mmmm...soup...

I don't believe this.

2004-11-03T18:05:54Z

I really can't believe it. Can it really be true that more than half of this country really thinks that sh*thead should be running things? Do they not hear the lies he's told? Do they not grasp the hate-filled, divisive agenda he has? Do they not see the terrible things he's done? Do they not count the lives he's squandered? Do they not understand how hated he has made us throughout the world? Do they not comprehend what further damage he still intends to do?

I can't believe it.

Is it better to believe that this result is due to massive vote-tampering and election fraud?

I don't know.

I don't want to believe that so many people could truly want that man to lead our country, particularly after these past few years. I don't want to believe that anyone could get away with rigging the election, either.

Today is the first day I've really actively wished we could afford to move to Canada.

And that may be the saddest thing of all.

The Big Day Is Tomorrow!

2004-11-02T03:01:09Z

Tomorrow is Election Day in the US. This is probably the most important election of our lifetimes, so, please, everyone - GET OUT THERE AND

VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE!

Let your voice be heard!

Wrung, Part 6

2004-10-22T18:45:39Z

Guess I was on a roll, last night...

Crossposted to do_me_odo

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

And now, more angst ahoy!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEW DS9 O/K [WIP - not yet rated] [6/?]

Wrung

by Cestsimal

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prophets, how humiliating!

I can feel my face flushing with embarrassment and anger. "Just...what, exactly, is...this, Weyoun?" Say one wrong word...make one wrong intonation, and I swear I'll kill you with my bare hands, you...thing.

Weyoun is still standing behind the case, his eyes downcast and his hands atop it. "This...this is the Founder, Odo, Colonel."

Dead. That's it. The Vorta is dead. Weyoun is about to abdicate and turn the Dominion's errand-running over to Number Ten. I set the container of...gel...down on the table and take another step toward the treacherous, lying snake of a Vorta. It will be easy to kill him; I've killed with my bare hands before, and he's not even bigger than me.

I can already hear his neck snapping.

Before I can reach for him, he steps around the table and bows before me, spreading his hands in that...supplicating posture I've seen other Vorta offer the Founders.

"Please, Colonel. My life is worth little, and it is yours if you desire it, but I assure you that I speak the truth. This is truly the Founder you knew as Odo, Security Chief of Deep Space Nine. The Dominion gives him into your care and safekeeping, if you will accept this gift."

Gift. They're making me a gift of...Odo. This can't be real. It isn't Odo. It...I'm not even sure it's sentient...or even alive! It's not Odo. It's not the man...the being I love, the one who loved me. It can't be.

I swallow some of my rage. "You had better explain, and it had better be very convincing."

Weyoun bows even deeper.

"Oh, sit down, for the Prophets' sake!" I snap at him, slumping into a chair of my own. I try not to stare at the sinuous container of alleged Changeling.

"The Great Link sends the regrets of the Founders, Colonel. But Odo...can no longer remain in the Link. He cannot...link. He..."

"What did they do to him?" I'll kill them all. Ungrateful, lying, murderous scum! I'll finish the job Starfleet started.

"Colonel...it...it had never happened before. The Founders...it was unanticipated."

"What was unanticipated?"

He sighs heavily, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "When Odo returned to the Founders, he merged into the Great Link, to heal and teach. He...he had never spent time in the Great Link of his own choosing."

"They judged him," I object. "He went to them before, and submitted himself to their so-called 'judgment'!" Killing is too good for them. I'll make them suffer, first, if I have to find someone to brew up a new virus to do it! I'll make them pay for this, I swear!

Weyoun winces. "That is so, but his judgment in the Great Link was under the control and direction of the Founders. This time, he came to them when they were in need of him, and...he gave himself to them."

I stare at him blankly. I know he did; I saw it happen. Odo voluntarily went into the Link, and merged with them. So?

"So, what? He violated some asinine Dominion protocol and they're punishing him? Prophets above, what is wrong with them?!"

"No, Colonel, no! You don't understand!" Weyoun is pleading with me, but I don't understand. I can't. How could they do something like this to him? How could they reject him, after everything he did? After everything he gave up to go back to them? How could they?

"Colonel, please, listen to me. When Odo...gave himself to the Great Link, the Founders were ill, and Odo...he was not experienced in their ways. He did not understand how to...give of himself and yet remain himself."

I shake my head, still not grasping this.

"Colonel...I serve the Founders in all things, insignificant as I am, but they have gifted me with more knowledge of the Great Link than any other Vorta has ever been honored to bear. The Great Link is one and yet many. There is unity, but a unity of individuals joining in physical and mental rapport. When the Founders bring forth a New One, the New One is protected and taught how to recognize that which makes it a unique entity, as well as that which makes it part of the Great Link. As the New One matures, it learns how to share itself more and more fully with the Great Link, until it is capable of complete rapport. This Learning may take a century or more. But Odo..."

"Odo was one of the Hundred," I barely breathe.

Weyoun nods slowly. "Yes. He was formed and sent forth, a New One untaught, unguarded, as part of the Hundred. None of them had been expected to return for centuries. Plans were made to receive them then as they returned, shelter and guard them, and teach them, as well as learn from them. Odo returned so soon, and then...the war..." He gestures vaguely, brushing away those terrible years and all the death and destruction with a mere wave of his hand.

"She became obsessed with Odo's return to the Great Link," he says, and I know he means that heartless bitch of a Founder currently in Federation custody for war crimes unfathomable. "Yet even she had made plans to guide his return, to teach him how to exist within the Great Link, in full rapport with the Founders, yet wholly himself. When he returned alone, the Great Link was...dying. He healed it; he sent his substance and his mind out to merge with all the others...but he did not know how to...limit himself. He did not know how to protect that which made him 'Odo,' that which made him an individual." Weyoun stares at me with tears in his eyes. "He did not even know that he must do so," he whispers.

I stare back at him in horror.

"The Great Link took all that he offered...and he offered everything. There was no way for the Founders to know he had not protected himself, until it was too late. Now..." He turns to look at the container on the table. "He can no longer Link. He can no longer take another form. He is...alive, but there is nothing...nothing of Odo left within him."

I can't do anything but gape stupidly at the container and the Vorta who has just told me that my dearest love is dead.

No.

Worse than dead.

[end of Part 6]

Wrung, Part 5

2004-10-22T18:14:03Z

Crossposted to do_me_odo

Previous chapters are here:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEW DS9 O/K [WIP - this section rated PG13 for language] [5/?]

Wrung

by Cestsimal

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Colonel Kira. I am pleased, both on behalf of the Founders, and for my own edification, insignificant though that is, to meet you at long last." Weyoun the Next bows his head and spreads his hands in eerie imitation of his smarmy forebears.

I repress a shudder, but bow slightly in return. "Shall I show you to your quarters?"

"That is most kind of you, Colonel, but I would greatly appreciate the opportunity for a...private discussion with you, at your earliest convenience."

A Vorta who wants to get straight to business? How very strange.

"Very well, Ambassador--"

"Please, Colonel, simply Weyoun will suffice. The Founders have entrusted me, unworthy though I am, as their messenger and courier, but I have no pretensions to ambassadorial status." He smiles at me, making it even harder to repress that shudder.

"Very well, Weyoun." I catch Rendas's eye and he nods. Two of his deputies take up guard positions across from the entrance to the docking ring.

Weyoun gestures to the First, who grunts to another Jem'Hadar and heads back through the airlock into their ship. They emerge in a moment, carrying a large, ornate case between them on an anti-grav cradle. The remaining Jem'Hadar stands silently beside the airlock, unblinking.

T'Nil gives a slight inclination of her head and leads the way. I gesture for Weyoun to join me, and our respective guards fall in step behind us. It's not a long walk to the turbolift; before I've had a chance to start fuming about the situation, we're walking down the corridor to a secure wardroom, reserved for this purpose.

"I...ah...I admit I am surprised to meet you, Weyoun, as I was given to understand your...er...predecessor was the last of the Weyoun line. The cloning facility was destroyed, was it not?"

"The cloning facility on Cardassia was destroyed, yes, Colonel, but the Dominion is meticulous about maintaining genetic material banks for critical, essential, or highly successful lines. The facility on Cardassia was supplied with duplicate material, but the original lab specimens are never removed from the Dominion's primary research facility. I, personally, was created from an original Weyoun cell, and thus could be considered another First Copy, yet I am the Ninth Weyoun created since that line was approved for clone production. For purposes of recordkeeping, I am denoted Weyoun B-One." He looks slyly at me. "Bureaucracy is much the same everywhere, is it not?"

"Mm," I answer, non-committally. I can feel every strand of hair on my body bristling at the mere proximity of this...creature, and my hands twitch, edging toward the phaser that I'm not wearing on my hip.

Diplomacy can be so annoying.

Fortunately, it 's a short corridor; we've reached the wardroom. Once we're inside, Weyoun gestures for the Jem'Hadar to place their burden on the table, then dismisses them. I nod slightly to Rendas, who looks like he wants to argue with me, but turns and escorts the Jem'Hadar away, taking his deputies with him.

T'Nil gives me a considering look.

"Thank you, Commander," I say calmly. "I will notify you if we require anything further. Otherwise, standard orders apply."

She nods once and leaves without a word.

And I am alone with the Dominion envoy. This creature, who may be entirely innocent in and of himself, but whose face and genetic lineage bring so many painful memories to mind that I can barely stand to look at him. I pour water for each of us and sink into a chair, indicating he should sit, as well.

"Colonel," he begins, a hesitant note in his voice I've never heard from a Vorta before, "This may be...difficult to explain."

I simply wait for him to spit it out, whatever it is.

"You know, of course, that the Founders were attacked, in an attempted genocide by the Federation. That...the Great Link," his voice is choked with reverent pain, "was nearly destroyed. Until...Odo returned to the Founders."

My fingernails are cutting into my palms. I knew this was coming, knew he would speak of Odo, knew how much it would hurt. Oh, Prophets! It hurts!

I manage to draw a breath.

"You understand, my own knowledge of these events is a combination of decanted memory engrams and psycho-educational techniques used to prepare me for this mission. I have no personal experience of these events."

I nod, to show I'm following him. Breathe, Nerys!

"Odo's return...healed the Great Link. More than that, it gave them insight, perhaps even understanding of his life among Solids, at least to some degree. The Founders subsequently revised many of the Dominion's long-standing policies governing member systems, and began to...discuss such matters with the nominal ruling bodies of those systems."

Well, whoop-dee-fucking-doo for them! as Chief Engineer LaSalle would say. How very fucking enlightened of them! I try to keep the sneer off my face and out of my voice when I ask him, "So, does this mean the Dominion now wishes to reopen diplomatic ties with the Alpha Quadrant?"

Weyoun looks...startled and...guilty? What is going on, here?

"Colonel, I assure you that the Dominion looks forward with great hope and longing for the time when citizens of the Alpha Quadrant and Gamma Quadrant will enjoy peaceful, productive discourse and trade, but the Founders are aware that such a time may well be centuries away. As I said, I make no pretensions to having ambassadorial credentials. My mission was to meet with you, and to serve as courier for the Founders." He stands and begins to pace nervously, a very odd activity for a Vorta.

"Colonel, I wish...I ask..." He sighs. "I wish the memories of my predecessors held more favorable recollections of their encounters with you. If we had been friends, perhaps this would be easier for me to explain and easier for you to hear."

Friends. Friends? I struggle for control of my emotions and voice. "Weyoun, I accept that you are not your predecessors. Please continue."

He stares at me for a moment, pale blue eyes unblinking, then nods. "Colonel, I was sent here to present you with this..." He seems at a loss for words; the guilt is back on his face and I could swear he would be weeping, if I thought Vorta ever wept. "The Dominion entrusts this gift to you, and asks that you accept it, along with the regrets of the Great Link."

...regrets...

Oh, Prophets, NO!

I know my palms will be bloody, but the pain anchors me to this harsh reality. I hold the Vorta's eyes with my own and wait for him to continue.

He moves slowly, stepping behind the gleaming case the Jem'Hadar placed on the table. He places his hands on either side of it and it splits down the middle, swinging open to reveal an elaborately curved, clear vessel of some sort, filled with a viscous, golden fluid.

"ODO?!" I leap to my feet and dive for the container, wrenching it free of its case and cradling it against my chest. I rip the seal off and...

And nothing.

There is no sudden surge of energy, no swirl of molten amber arcing up and into the humanoid form I know and love so well. I slip my hand down into the container and brush the golden surface with a fingertip. The amorphous mass draws back slightly, then smooths out beneath my finger again.

"Odo?" I whisper this time, "Is that...you?"

The being in the container gives no indication of having understood - or even heard me. It seems to be shimmering a bit...oh, no, that's my vision. My eyesight is blurring.

My face is wet.

[end of Part 5]

In place of a Dark Lord, you would have a Queen!

2004-10-13T20:34:02Z

Not dark, but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Treacherous as the sea! Stronger than the foundations of the earth!

You are Galadriel

Er...right. Suuuuuurrrre.

Okay, where's my Mirror and scary armor, then? ;-)

Wrung, Part 4

2004-10-06T01:32:04Z

Crossposted to do_me_odo

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEW DS9 O/K [WIP - not yet rated] [4/?]

Wrung

by Cestsimal

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day is a blur. I'm sure I made it to whatever meetings I was supposed to have, as T'Nil didn't have to come fetch me or even arch her eyebrows at me, but only the Prophets know what I said or what was decided. I stare at the console on my desk, watching the display dissolve into a blur of meaningless colors and patterns, and I wonder if I'm supposed to be understanding them.

The duty officer brings in some PADDs, wanting my approval for who knows what. I automatically thumbprint everything, vaguely hoping I haven't just authorized selling the runabouts as excursion vehicles, having the Promenade painted chartreuse, or giving Quark an exclusive concession to sell hallucinogenics in the Temple, during services.

Probably not.

Although it might liven services up, a bit.

I go back to contemplating the pulsing colors on the screen. There must be some meaning to them. Red and green and blue...there are words, too...at least, I'm fairly sure they're words. I should be able to read them, if they're real words...

"Colonel?" Dinnahva Tosha, the duty officer, sounds concerned.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Um, it's 2250, Colonel...aren't you...ah...would you like something from the replicator?"

"Hm? Oh. No, thank you, Lieutenant." She leaves and I shake myself, trying to get some sense of reality back. It must be the lack of sleep and too much raktajino. I try to remember if I've eaten anything today, but it's all a blur. Damned synthahol!

Finally I can't delay any longer. If I'm going to meet a delegation from the Dominion at 0900, I'm going to have to make at least a token attempt to sleep. At a bare minimum, I'll want a sonic shower and a fresh uniform in the morning, which means I have to go back to my quarters.

-*-*-*-*-

The Promenade is relatively quiet as I head back to my quarters. Most of the shops are closed by this hour, but even Quark's and the other few that stay open late seem rather subdued. Not surprising, really. In the grand scheme of things, it's been a quiet day. No celebrations or crises, no invasion of drunken Andorian Templars with their silly little hats - like we had last month. It's an ordinary day, and people have finished their ordinary jobs and gone home to their ordinary suppers and ordinary beds.

Just like I'm heading home to mine. My ordinary, empty bed.

Oh, get a grip, Nerys! Wallowing in your misery won't make it any better. Get home, get to bed, get some sleep. And in the morning, get up and meet with the Dominion's smug Vorta of a representative and tell him he can take his trade agreements and stuff them, crosswise!

I feel better.

As I make my way home and get ready for bed, I carefully plan out exactly what I'm going to say to the Dominion's envoy, on every subject from new trade agreements to personally-conducted tours of the Fire Caves for the Founders, complete with Charmingly Authentic Native Bajoran Dancers.

I'm still working out how much to charge them for each Ancient Bajoran Fire Dance lesson, when I fall asleep.

-*-*-*-*-

I refuse to be flustered about this meeting. It's true I got up half an hour before my alarm sounded, and I've been wavering between my service-dress and full-dress uniforms for an hour now, but I'm not flustered. I'm just a touch indecisive.

I had a piece of tekka bread with my raktajino, in hopes of keeping my stomach acid under control, and I only had the usual two raktajinos, rather than the four I want.

The service-dress will have to do. It's not an formal event; the Dominion hasn't asked to present ambassador's credentials; they're just sending an envoy to meet with me, specifically. So, service-dress. Right.

But the full-dress is more...

No, dammit. And your hair is fine the way it is. Just put the damned uniform on, quit wavering around like a girl with her first phaser, and get to Ops!

I'm not happy about it, but I go, anyway. T'Nil has the morning reports, as always. The Dominion envoy's arrival is right there at 0900, between the Security briefing at 0830 and the weekly comm report to the Ministry at 1400.

I give T'Nil a sharp look; she's just staring blandly at me. Vulcans! Keeva cream wouldn't melt in her mouth, but she's given me a five hour slot to deal with the Dominion meeting and its aftermath. Well, and lunch, presumably.

I steal one of her tricks and raise an eyebrow. "Light schedule. You have everything else covered, then?"

She doesn't even blink. "Certainly, Colonel. Here are the security arrangements." She hands me another PADD as her commbadge chirps.

"Commander T'Nil, vessel emerging from the wormhole."

"Acknowledged." T'Nil's expression never changes. "A summary report for the Ministry, Colonel," she says, handing me yet another PADD.

My pulse is racing, but I take a long, slow breath and scan through the security arrangements and the report for the Ministry. There's no mention of the meeting with the Dominion envoy in it. I decide not to mention the ommission to T'Nil. She'd be perfectly within bounds to note that as the meeting has not yet occurred, she was unable to summarize it for inclusion in the report.

Personally, I think the longer I can keep the Ministry in blissful ignorance, the better for all of us.

"Commander T'Nil," the comm says again, "Dominion ship...ah, 42A97, requests permission to dock; the Dominion envoy requests a meeting with Colonel Kira at her convenience."

"Acknowledged. Direct the 42A97 to high security dock, Upper Pylon 3." With a brief glance at me, she adds, "Colonel Kira will meet the Dominion envoy at the docking ring."

Well, now I'm committed. I'm meeting...the Dominion envoy in less than half an hour. I resist the impulse to straighten my tunic, smooth my hair, or crumple up into a ball and hide under my desk.

It looks cosy, under the desk.

I go back to reading the security arrangements. T'Nil's done her usual efficient job, and Rendas would sooner cut his own throat than slip up on this particular security detail, so I'm sure everything's been taken into consideration. Still, I have to ask at least one salient question, so they'll know I'm paying attention.

"Rendas has assigned his own people to VIP quarters guard detail?"

T'Nil gives me a grave nod.

"Good. It's more tactful than using Starfleet personnel. Be sure all security personnel are debriefed and are very, very clear on their duties. The last thing we need is some sort of 'incident' with the Dominion."

"Certainly, Colonel."

Her comm badge chirps again. "Commander T'Nil, Dominion Ship 42A97 is now docking."

"Acknowledged." She quirks her eyebrow at me and glances toward the door.

Well, the time has come.

We make our way to the turbolift and are met at the docking ring by Rendas and an obviously hand-picked team of deputies, each one not less than two meters tall and nearly a meter across the shoulders. I give him a quick wink, and smile as he tries not to blush.

We line up in front of the airlock and wait for it to cycle.

I'm not holding my breath. I'm not. I'm not. Okay, I really should take a breath here, before I get dizzy.

Breathe.

There are dark shadows at the far end of the airlock. One door cycles and they come closer. The huge round door before us rolls away, and I'm staring at a pair of rather subdued-looking Jem'Hadar.

They step out into the station, survey us carefully with that unnerving, cold gaze they have, and then one turns back toward the airlock and says, "Area secure, First."

There's more movement at the far end of the airlock. Another Jem'Hadar comes through, with someone behind him, shielded from our view by the bulk of the reptilian guard.

"I am First Tenakkatan. By the order of the Founders, I have brought their envoy to meet Colonel Kira Nerys." His pale eyes settle on me as the most likely holder of that title.

"I am Colonel Kira Nerys," I reply formally, "And I welcome the Dominion envoy to Deep Space Nine."

The First looks as though he would like to growl at me, but he merely steps aside to let the envoy through.

"Colonel Kira, on behalf of the Founders, I bring you greetings from the Dominion."

I nearly faint. Oh, Prophets! Must stay on my feet. Must not black out. Not here, not now, and especially not in front of...him.

I feel a firm but slender finger prod me in an odd way, somewhere in the middle of my back. My vision clears and my knees seem to have stabilized.

"Ambassador Weyoun, I presume?" I say, with all the firmness and clarity of a half-strangled razor cat.

[end of part 4]

[Why yes, I am evil, thank you! *g*]
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What Tarot Card Are You?

2004-09-22T02:22:58Z

Gacked from odogoddess

You are the Empress card. The Empress is the
archetype of the Mother. She creates and
nurtures life. She represents the abundance of
Mother Earth. The Empress is capable of using
nature in a productive way. She espouses art
for art's sake. Her planet is Venus, and she
embodies love of beauty and a strong value
system. Here is also found initial sensation.
This is the first really physical experience of
the world that The Fool has entered. The
Empress has a rich understanding of the world
based on her five senses. In a reading, The
Empress represents pregnancy, actual or
metaphorical. She indicates an act of creation
and a sensual experience of beauty. The Empress
is a nurturing force that wishes to see the
product of her experiences reach the next stage
of development.

Image from A Photographic Tarot
http://www.bluewitch.com/healingtarot/healtar.htm
Deck

Which Tarot Card Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Adventures in Cookery

2004-09-20T23:53:54Z

Well, we bought the concrete, but didn't get around to pouring it over the weekend, after all. I conked out in the middle of Sunday and what was supposed to be a 20 minute nap turned in to a two-and-a-half-hour siesta. Alas.

Still, we had a couple of interesting adventures in cooking, this past week. I can tell Autumn's around the corner; I'm wanting to cook, again...

J got a neat-sounding recipe for couscous pilaf from an online friend, Arkady, and we adapted it to try on Friday. I tossed some frozen boneless chicken in the crockpot Thursday night, along with chopped onion, garlic, and about 2 cups of chicken broth. Left it to simmer on low overnight and all the next day.

We'd picked up some split peas and red lentils to add to the pilaf, and two yellow crookneck squash to use in place of the artichoke hearts J can't eat. I put a few tablespoons of the dried legumes to soak when I put the chicken in the crockpot. Friday evening, I stir-fried onion and garlic in a little oil, chopped up the squash and tossed it in, then drained and shredded the chicken from the crockpot and tossed that in as well. Steamed the drained peas and lentils in a small amount of water in the microwave for five minutes, and tossed them in as well.

Seasoned the whole mess with cumin, cinnamon, basil, coriander and bay leaves, as specified, but we were out of dried ginger, so I had to substitute a bit of cardamom. Tossed it all together well, threw in a box of Near East Couscous (with currants and spices; it was what we had on hand. Plain probably would have been better, for this) and added about three cups of broth from the crockpot. Got it boiliing properly, covered it, turned off the heat, and in five minutes - voila! Supper!

Verdict: Not bad. IMO, the lentils were a waste of effort - I couldn't taste them, or even see them. The peas weren't bad, but probably should have steamed a bit longer. It definitely needed raisins - even though the package was supposed to have had currants in it. I tossed a handful of golden raisins into my second helping and found it a pretty decent improvement. Personally, I think some chopped green onions would have gone well as a last-minute mix-in, too, but J probably wouldn't have wanted any in hers.

We'll probably try iterations on this one in the future; it was simple and quick, particularly with a bit of prep-work the night before.

I never used to like split pea soup; probably a holdover from the childhood days when I used to smash peas with my thumb if anyone was foolish enough to put them on my plate. I *hated* peas. Even today, they're not my favorite vegetable, but I can handle them in small doses, or if mixed with other flavors.

But the last few times J's ordered split pea soup in restaurants, it's smelled *so* good! So, for some reason, we decided to try making some split pea soup in the crockpot this weekend. Very simple seat-of-my-pants recipe:

1 lb dried split peas
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
1 cup chicken stock (leftover from adventures in couscousing, see above)

4 slices boiled ham lunch meat (not a good choice - should have been a hamhock, some ham bones, or at least a chunk of *good* ham, but, again, this was what we had on hand)
1 medium onion, chopped
2 large cloves garlic, minced
2 bay leaves
cumin
salt
cracked black pepper
water

Essentially, I picked over and washed the peas, threw them in the crockpot with the veggies and ham, poured in the stock and enough water to bring the level up to about 2 inches below the lip of the crockpot (it's a small-to-medium one; if anyone cares, I'll check capacity when I get home), added a few shakes of cumin, around a teaspoon of salt, and several shakes of cracked black pepper. Put the lid on it, turned temp to "high" and ignored it all day long.

Verdict: pretty good. The ham should have been better quality, and J would have preferred if it were minced into invisibility, but it was acceptable. I think one small potato would have added something as well, and I *might* have overdone the black pepper just a tad. It had a rather pronounced bite.

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go...

2004-09-16T17:26:21Z

So, the guy from DWP came out to inspect the new meter box, tree-trimming, and concrete work they'd required we do, and gave J the proverbial good news and bad news.

The Good News

The electrical work was "first rate" and completely to DWP's satisfaction. Yay!

The tree had been trimmed back the way they wanted. Yay, again!

They'll be able to install the meter and get everything hooked up the way they want it...as soon as we deal with...

The Bad News

The concrete we'd poured wasn't in the right spot.

*sigh*

Heck, he'd given me a sketch, showing a concrete slab in front of the meter, which is where we'd poured it. According to his latest visit, though, what he meant was that we should extend the existing step lengthwise, rather than widthwise, so that if one of their techs was working there, he wouldn't turn an ankle slipping off the step.

Apparently this is a major hazard. Gee, who knew?

Ah, well. It's work J and I can do, ourselves, even if it is a bit heavy. We'll have to go pick up a few more sacks of redimix, possibly tonight, and get this done Friday evening, if I get home early enough, or Saturday, after the sun starts dropping.

The only major headache is going to be the side gate. We might be able to slope the addition enough so that the gate will still be able to swing outward. If not, we'll have to take the gate down, drill the post and rehang it, a bit higher. Yet another annoyance. :-P

It'd be nice if we could get everything finished up before Saturday; there are more than enough things I'd like us to be working on over the weekend, without adding a concrete pour to the list.

Wrung - Part 3

2004-08-25T01:22:54Z

Crossposted to do_me_odo

Part 1 and Part 2

Moving right along, then...

NEW DS9 O/K [WIP - not yet rated] [3/?]

Wrung

by cestsimal

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"From the Dominion?" Ezri's voice is shrill enough to warp titanium, but then Julian's spoon clicking against the side of his cup sounds like someone banging on a steel drum with an axe, so probably my perceptions are a bit off, this morning.

T'Nil is unphased at the uproar the announcement seems to have caused. "I believe that is what I said, Counsellor. The purpose of this impending visit has not been specified, other than the request for a meeting with Colonel Kira. High security quarters have been assigned in the diplomatic accommodations section. It would be prudent to increase station security and assign additional patrols, as well as escort duties." She gives our new Chief of Security an arched eyebrow, which receives a curt nod in response.

Julian's watching me with diagnostician's eyes. Hm, he's probably thinking, how is the Colonel taking this news? Is she emotionally prepared? Does she need to confer with Ezri? Does she need a tranquilizer?

No, Julian, I damned well don't. I don't want to talk to Ezri or anyone else about this. And I don't want any of your biochemical reassurances that Everything Will Be Just Fine! So take your hypospray and go...reassure yourself!

I want another raktajino.

I want to go back to bed for about six weeks.

I want a vacation on Risa.

I want Odo--

Prophets, but I'm pathetic.

T'Nil's efficient, I'll give her that. With only an hour or so's warning, she's already got everything lined up for the coming week, including this surprise visit. Security's ready as well. Rendas would skin his deputies alive if any of them slipped up, especially for this visit. Actually, the hapless deputy would probably hand him the knife and lie down for it; they're shockingly proud of their jobs and blindingly loyal to the last Chief of Security. That goes for Rendas, as well. He nearly wept when I promoted him; fortunately he didn't notice I was barely holding back tears, myself.

After a last bracing dose of Vulcan efficiency, I dismiss the staff and try to get back to work. One thing I'd never appreciated about the Station Commander's job is the sheer deadliness of the never-ending "paperwork." Every damned time a ship docks here, I've got about a dozen forms to complete and file with Starfleet and the government. Not to mention the terrabytes of data I'm supposed to be reviewing for each of them, before I even get to the daily housekeeping matters that actually keep this station running.

After completing required forms for an hour or so, I call up that transmission and read it yet again. Starfleet's forwarding headers sound oddly uninvolved, as if they don't really give a damn whether I talk to someone from the Dominion or not.

Odd.

The request from the Dominion itself is so carefully couched in bureaucratese I'm certain it took a whole committee of protocol Vortas to write it. It's full of wherefores and whereases and positively drips with their oily form of diplomacy. I feel like I need to rinse my eyeballs after reading it.

Under all the slimy, sycophantic drivel, it really only says they want to send an envoy, who wants to talk to me. Not "the station commander" or "the head of the Bajoran forces on DS9," but me, "Colonel Kira Nerys."

An "envoy."

I can't let myself think it has to be Odo. I can't.

But who else? Or why else would some "envoy" from the Dominion want to talk specifically to me?

Even if Odo was...

The Great Link...

I mean, they wouldn't...

Would they? No, no of course not. "Solids" don't factor into their thinking, at all. We're either obedient or in the way, and they wouldn't bother themselves to let me know if...

If something had happened.

No, it has to be something else. It...it must be something else. They probably want to discuss reintroducing trade routes or the status of the non-intervention treaty in light of Bajor's upcoming acceptance into the Federation. That has to be it.

It has to be.

I--I need to pray.

-*-*-*-*-

Visiting the Temple before lunch helped a bit, but I'm still on edge as I make my way to Quark's for my daily harassment visit. I try to vary the times, just to keep the little troll on his toes. Sometimes I come by first thing in the morning, sometimes right in the middle of the nighttime crush - I keep it as random as possible. I always make a point of glowering at him and watching the dabo tables suspiciously, and Quark always makes a point of screaming at me about strong-arm intimidation tactics and ruining his business.

He always offers me a drink. Sometimes I take it.

We both feel better, afterwards.

Today, I really don't have the energy for a screaming match, so I just sit down at the bar and ask for a stardrifter. Yeah, it's early in the day to be drinking, and yeah, I'm still in uniform, but after last night and this miserable morning, I really don't care much about appearances.

The hired help cowers behind the bar when I snap at him, then turns away to get my drink. I watch the dabo players for a while and smirk at a pair of Klingons in swim trunks heading up to the holosuites. I blindly reach for the drink I heard placed on the bar and sip it.

Bleah. Synthahol.

I'm about ready to bounce the glass off the bartender's head, but when I turn back, Quark's standing there, and his twitchy assistant is industriously polishing tabletops at the back of the room.

"Care for another, Colonel?" he asks, with the nerve to add, "On the house, of course!"

"Quark, there's more alcohol in my morning raktajino than in this slop! I ordered a damned stardrifter; where is it?"

"Why Colonel! You know very well that Quark's prides itself on our observation of station regulations regarding the serving of intoxicating, hallucinogenic, or otherwise mind-altering substances to station personnel on duty and in uniform."

I stare at him. He's got to be joking.

The miserable little troll has the audacity to take my glass and hand me a raktajino. "Here you go, Colonel. Compliments of Quark's!"

Oh, whatever. Fine. I take a long swallow of raktajino and sigh.

Quark leans toward me, over the bar. "So, Colonel, confidentially, of course...is it true?"

"Is what true, Quark?"

"Is it true that Odo's coming back tomorrow? That he's been assigned as Dominion ambassador to Bajor?"

"What? Where the hell did you hear that?"

"Just a rumor, Colonel. You know how quickly those tend to fly." He gives me a toothy grin. "I was hoping to get some confirmation, for...business purposes."

I snort. "You mean you want to warn your low-life clients to stay out of sight? Or do you have a bet riding on this?"

He pulls a shocked-and-appalled face, pressing one hand to his chest and shaking his head. "Colonel, I'm hurt! I merely inquired, as a member in good standing of the Promenade Merchants' Association! Any significant change in station personnel affects all of us, and it's only reasonable to ask that we be kept informed!"

"Quark?"

"Yes, Colonel?"

"Shut up and go away."

I guess he can tell I don't have the patience to banter with him today. He puts a bowl of sand peas in front of me and wanders off, looking thoughtful.

I finish my raktajino and leave before I do something that will have me filling out even more damned forms.

Wrung - Part 2

2004-07-14T22:11:45Z

Cross-posted to do_me_odo

Part 1 is here.

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NEW DS9 O/K [WIP - not yet rated] [2/?]

Wrung

by Cestsimal

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At the best of times, no one would say I'm a morning person. I've never liked rousing early, and my wrath at being awakened after a night of meagre, interrupted sleep is something to fear.

Too bad the computer isn't at all intimidated.

"The time is 06:10. Good Morning, Colonel."

It's been mouthing off for the past fifteen minutes. Blasted thing. I groan and manage to roll over enough to swing my legs out and sit up. My head hurts. My vision is fuzzy and there's a metallic taste in my mouth and a dull ache in my jaw that lets me know I've been gritting my teeth all night again.

"The time is 06:11. Good Morning, Colonel."

Stupid thing will keep that up until I either respond or the emergency wakeup subroutine kicks in. I hate the emergency wakeup subroutine. One of these days, I'm going to take a phaser to the emergency wakeup subroutine. If it's lucky.

I put my weight on my feet, stand up, and stagger to the replicator, growling, "Shut. Up!" as the computer starts to greet me again. "Raktajino, extra hot." It's a wonder the replicator can understand me; my voice sounds like an ore crusher under full load. But technology's amazing, and a cup of steaming salvation appears before me. I pour it down my throat, hardly bothering to swallow. "Raktajino, extra hot, two kava," I order, a bit more comprehensibly. The second cup is rich and robust - the first one woke me up enough to appreciate it. I drink it thirstily, shove the empty mugs back into the replicator, and head off to bathe and dress.

My staff may never appreciate just how often those morning cups of raktajino have saved their hides.

-*-*-*-*-

Up in Ops, the staff are just a touch wary of me, until they've had a chance to judge my mood. I have no idea why; I haven't fired my weapon in months, or snapped at someone in, well, hours, anyway.

T'Nil, my new First Officer, inclines her head briefly in greeting as I head for my office. "Good morning, Commander," I say, civilly. "Status?"

She follows me into my office and declines a cup of raktajino as I order another from the replicator. "Situation normal, Colonel. Senior staff meeting at 0900, Colonel; a delegation of industrial leaders from Bajor are arriving on the morning shuttle; the Venmok has docked at Upper Pylon Two and is requesting repairs; there was a minor disturbance at Quark's at 2530 last night; and you have three communiques flagged as 'urgent,' in your pending transmissions."

"Thanks, T'Nil. The Venmok, huh? Well, when you see Captain Latarri, tell him he still owes me fifty-three strips of latinum from last time, the slippery bastard." I grin at T'Nil. She doesn't bother denying that she'll be seeing Latarri, but one eyebrow arches rather eloquently. I take a swig of my raktajino and request my morning transmissions from the computer.

"T'Nil?"

"Yes, Colonel?"

"Tell Latarri I might be able to find time for another game while he's here, just in case he's got too much latinum in his cargo holds and needs to offload some of it."

She merely inclines her head in assent. I wonder briefly what she and Latarri see in each other, but bitter experience has taught me that pondering other people's love lives can lead to more flashbacks and even less restful sleep.

I scan through the transmissions - mostly routine - until one smacks me between the eyes and sends a chilly tendril spiralling down into my guts.

"T'Nil."

"Colonel?"

"Starfleet has forwarded a formal request from the Dominion for a special envoy to pay us a visit. There will be a ship coming through the wormhole tomorrow, at 0900."

"Indeed?" The eyebrow arches again. "It is rather short notice, is it not, Colonel?"

"Yeah. Add this to the agenda for this morning's briefing. We'll have to increase security, at a minimum."

My voice is steady; my hands are steady; my nerves are steady. As long as I can just sit here, I'll be fine. My pulse is pounding in my temples, and my stomach just turned over. A "special envoy." Oh, Prophets! I can't let myself hope. I can't. I can't.

I won't.

Oh, Odo!

[end of part 2]

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Federal Marriage Amendment loses in Senate - 50-48.

2004-07-14T21:00:37Z

Thank God.

And I don't care what Name you use, or if you just want to chalk this one up to a victory of tolerance over prejudice, or of the sense of reverence for the US Constitution over frothing-at-the-mouth homophobia.

See how your senators voted, here:

Senate Vote Roll Call

It's one hurdle past, but the struggle continues. According to the Human Rights Campaign, The House will take up the issue of Marriage Equality next week, and over the next three months, as many as 13 states are facing ballot initiatives to write discrimination into their state constitutions, under the guise of "protecting" marriage.

I had a rant I was going to post here, but I'll save it for a little later.

Books! Yay!

2004-06-30T23:11:17Z

Too much carp going on in RL these days... Those giant goldfish will get you, every time! ;-)

Anywho, here's a cool books I have/haven't read meme from sio.

Swiped from sio

bold those books you've read
*italicise started-but-never-finished
*add three of your own
*post to your livejournal

1.The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman
4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. 1984, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's/Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Susskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie
101. Three Men In A Boat, Jerome K. Jerome
102. Small Gods, Terry Pratchett
103. The Beach, Alex Garland
104. Dracula, Bram Stoker
105. Point Blanc, Anthony Horowitz
106. The Pickwick Papers, Charles Dickens
107. Stormbreaker, Anthony Horowitz
108. The Wasp Factory, Iain Banks
109. The Day Of The Jackal, Frederick Forsyth
110. The Illustrated Mum, Jacqueline Wilson
111. Jude The Obscure, Thomas Hardy
112. The Secret Diary Of Adrian Mole Aged 13 1/2, Sue Townsend
113. The Cruel Sea, Nicholas Monsarrat
114. Les Miserables, Victor Hugo
115. The Mayor Of Casterbridge, Thomas Hardy
116. The Dare Game, Jacqueline Wilson
117. Bad Girls, Jacqueline Wilson
118. The Picture Of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
119. Shogun, James Clavell
120. The Day Of The Triffids, John Wyndham
121. Lola Rose, Jacqueline Wilson
122. Vanity Fair, William Makepeace Thackeray
123. The Forsyte Saga, John Galsworthy
124. House Of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski
125. The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver
126. Reaper Man, Terry Pratchett
127. Angus, Thongs And Full-Frontal Snogging, Louise Rennison
128. The Hound Of The Baskervilles, Arthur Conan Doyle
129. Possession, A. S. Byatt
130. The Master And Margarita, Mikhail Bulgakov
131. The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood
132. Danny The Champion Of The World, Roald Dahl
133. East Of Eden, John Steinbeck
134. George's Marvellous Medicine, Roald Dahl
135. Wyrd Sisters, Terry Pratchett
136. The Color Purple, Alice Walker
137. Hogfather, Terry Pratchett
138. The Thirty-Nine Steps, John Buchan
139. Girls In Tears, Jacqueline Wilson
140. Sleepovers, Jacqueline Wilson
141. All Quiet On The Western Front, Erich Maria Remarque
142. Behind The Scenes At The Museum, Kate Atkinson
143. High Fidelity, Nick Hornby
144. It, Stephen King
145. James And The Giant Peach, Roald Dahl
146. The Green Mile, Stephen King
147. Papillon, Henri Charriere
148. Men At Arms, Terry Pratchett
149. Master And Commander, Patrick O'Brian
150. Skeleton Key, Anthony Horowitz
151. Soul Music, Terry Pratchett
152. Thief Of Time, Terry Pratchett
153. The Fifth Elephant, Terry Pratchett
154. Atonement, Ian McEwan
155. Secrets, Jacqueline Wilson
156. The Silver Sword, Ian Serraillier
157. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, Ken Kesey
158. Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad
159. Kim, Rudyard Kipling
160. Cross Stitch, Diana Gabaldon
161. Moby Dick, Herman Melville
162. River God, Wilbur Smith
163. Sunset Song, Lewis Grassic Gibbon
164. The Shipping News, Annie Proulx
165. The World According To Garp, John Irving
166. Lorna Doone, R. D. Blackmore
167. Girls Out Late, Jacqueline Wilson
168. The Far Pavilions, M. M. Kaye
169. The Witches, Roald Dahl
170. Charlotte's Web, E. B. White
171. Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
172. They Used To Play On Grass, Terry Venables and Gordon Williams
173. The Old Man And The Sea, Ernest Hemingway
174. The Name Of The Rose, Umberto Eco
175. Sophie's World, Jostein Gaarder
176. Dustbin Baby, Jacqueline Wilson
177. Fantastic Mr. Fox, Roald Dahl
178. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov
179. Jonathan Livingstone Seagull, Richard Bach
180. The Little Prince, Antoine De Saint-Exupery
181. The Suitcase Kid, Jacqueline Wilson
182. Oliver Twist, Charles Dickens
183. The Power Of One, Bryce Courtenay
184. Silas Marner, George Eliot
185. American Psycho, Bret Easton Ellis
186. The Diary Of A Nobody, George and Weedon Gross-mith
187. Trainspotting, Irvine Welsh
188. Goosebumps, R. L. Stine
189. Heidi, Johanna Spyri
190. Sons And Lovers, D. H. Lawrence
191. The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera
192. Man And Boy, Tony Parsons
193. The Truth, Terry Pratchett
194. The War Of The Worlds, H. G. Wells
195. The Horse Whisperer, Nicholas Evans
196. A Fine Balance, Rohinton Mistry
197. Witches Abroad, Terry Pratchett
198. The Once And Future King, T. H. White
199. The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Eric Carle
200. Flowers In The Attic, Virginia (V.C) Andrews
201. The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien
202. The Eye of the World, Robert Jordan
203. The Great Hunt, Robert Jordan
204. The Dragon Reborn, Robert Jordan
205. Fires of Heaven, Robert Jordan
206. Lord of Chaos, Robert Jordan
207. Winter's Heart, Robert Jordan
208. A Crown of Swords, Robert Jordan
209. Crossroads of Twilight, Robert Jordan
210. A Path of Daggers, Robert Jordan
211. As Nature Made Him, John Colapinto
212. Microserfs, Douglas Coupland
213. The Married Man, Edmund White
214. Winter's Tale, Mark Helprin
215. The History of Sexuality, Michel Foucault
216. Cry to Heaven, Anne Rice
217. Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe, John Boswell
218. Equus, Peter Shaffer
219. The Man Who Ate Everything, Jeffrey Steingarten
220. Letters To A Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke
221. Ella Minnow Pea, Mark Dunn
222. The Vampire Lestat, Anne Rice
223. Anthem, Ayn Rand
224. The Bridge To Terabithia, Katherine Paterson
225. Tartuffe, Moliere
226. The Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka
227. The Crucible, Arthur Miller
228. The Trial, Franz Kafka
229. Oedipus Rex, Sophocles translation, obviously
230. Oedipus at Colonus, Sophocles translation, obviously
231. Death Be Not Proud, John Gunther
232. A Doll's House, Henrik Ibsen
233. Hedda Gabler, Henrik Ibsen
234. Ethan Frome, Edith Wharton
235. A Raisin In The Sun, Lorraine Hansberry
236. ALIVE!, Piers Paul Read
237. Grapefruit, Yoko Ono
238. Trickster Makes This World, Lewis Hyde
240. The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley
241. Chronicles of Thomas Convenant, Unbeliever, Stephen Donaldson
242. Lord of Light, Roger Zelazny
242. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon
243. Summerland, Michael Chabon
244. A Confederacy of Dunces, John Kennedy Toole
245. Candide, Voltaire
246. The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More, Roald Dahl
247. Ringworld, Larry Niven
248. The King Must Die, Mary Renault
249. Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert Heinlein
250. A Wrinkle in Time, Madeline L'Engle
251. The Eyre Affair, Jasper Fforde
252. The House Of The Seven Gables, Nathaniel Hawthorne
253. The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne
254. The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan
255. The Great Gilly Hopkins, Katherine Paterson
256. Chocolate Fever, Robert Kimmel Smith
257. Xanth: The Quest for Magic, Piers Anthony
258. The Lost Princess of Oz, L. Frank Baum
259. Wonder Boys, Michael Chabon
260. Lost In A Good Book, Jasper Fforde
261. Well Of Lost Plots, Jasper Fforde
261. Life Of Pi, Yann Martel
263. The Bean Trees, Barbara Kingsolver
264. A Yellow Rraft In Blue Water, Michael Dorris
265. Little House on the Prairie, Laura Ingalls Wilder
267. Where The Red Fern Grows, Wilson Rawls
268. Griffin & Sabine, Nick Bantock
269. Witch of Blackbird Pond, Joyce Friedland
270. Mrs. Frisby And The Rats Of NIMH, Robert C. O'Brien
271. Tuck Everlasting, Natalie Babbitt
272. The Cay, Theodore Taylor
273. From The Mixed-Up Files Of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, E.L. Konigsburg
274. The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster
275. The Westing Game, Ellen Raskin
276. The Kitchen God's Wife, Amy Tan
277. The Bone Setter's Daughter, Amy Tan
278. Relic, Duglas Preston & Lincolon Child
279. Wicked, Gregory Maguire
280. American Gods, Neil Gaiman
281. Misty of Chincoteague, Marguerite Henry
282. The Girl Next Door, Jack Ketchum
283. Haunted, Judith St. George
284. Singularity, William Sleator
285. A Short History of Nearly Everything, Bill Bryson
286. Different Seasons, Stephen King
287. Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk
288. About a Boy, Nick Hornby
289. The Bookman's Wake, John Dunning
290. The Church of Dead Girls, Stephen Dobyns
291. Illusions, Richard Bach
292. Magic's Pawn, Mercedes Lackey
293. Magic's Promise, Mercedes Lackey
294. Magic's Price, Mercedes Lackey
295. The Dancing Wu Li Masters, Gary Zukav
296. Spirits of Flux and Anchor, Jack L. Chalker
297. Interview with the Vampire, Anne Rice
298. The Encyclopedia of Unusual Sex Practices, Brenda Love
299. Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace.
300. The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison.
301. The Cider House Rules, John Irving.
302. Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card
303. Girlfriend in a Coma, Douglas Coupland
304. The Lion's Game, Nelson Demille
305. The Sun, The Moon, and the Stars, Stephen Brust
306. Cyteen, C. J. Cherryh
307. Foucault's Pendulum, Umberto Eco
308. Cryptonomicon, Neal Stephenson
309. Invisible Monsters, Chuck Palahniuk
310. Camber of Culdi, Kathryn Kurtz
311. The Fountainhead, Ayn Rand
312. War and Rememberance, Herman Wouk
313. The Art of War, Sun Tzu
314. The Giver, Lois Lowry
315. The Telling, Ursula Le Guin
316. Xenogenesis (or Lilith's Brood), Octavia Butler
317. A Civil Campaign, Lois McMaster Bujold
318. The Curse of Chalion, Lois McMaster Bujold
319. The Aeneid, Publius Vergilius Maro (Vergil)
320. Hanta Yo, Ruth Beebe Hill
321. The Princess Bride, S. Morganstern (or William Goldman)
322. Beowulf, Anonymous
323. The Sparrow, Maria Doria Russell
324. Deerskin, Robin McKinley
325. Dragonsong, Anne McCaffrey
326. Passage, Connie Willis
327. Otherland, Tad Williams
328. Tigana, Guy Gavriel Kay
329. Number the Stars, Lois Lowry
330. Beloved, Toni Morrison
331. Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal, Christopher Moore
332. The mysterious disappearance of Leon, I mean Noel, Ellen Raskin
333. Summer Sisters, Judy Blume
334. The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Victor Hugo
335. The Island on Bird Street, Uri Orlev
336. Midnight in the Dollhouse, Marjorie Filley Stover
337. The Miracle Worker, William Gibson
338. The Genesis Code, John Case
339. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Robert Louis Stevensen
340. Paradise Lost, John Milton
341. Phantom, Susan Kay
342. The Mummy or Ramses the Damned, Anne Rice
343. Anno Dracula, Kim Newman
344: The Dresden Files: Grave Peril, Jim Butcher
345: Tokyo Suckerpunch, Issac Adamson
346: The Winter of Magic's Return, Pamela Service
347: The Oddkins, Dean R. Koontz
348. My Name is Asher Lev, Chaim Potok
349. The Last Goodbye, Raymond Chandler
350. At Swim, Two Boys, Jaime O'Neill
351. Othello, by William Shakespeare
352. The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas
353. The Collected Poems of William Butler Yeats
354. Sati, Christopher Pike
355. The Inferno, Dante
356. The Apology, Plato
357. The Small Rain, Madeline L'Engle
358. The Man Who Tasted Shapes, Richard E Cytowick
359. 5 Novels, Daniel Pinkwater
360. The Sevenwaters Trilogy, Juliet Marillier (working on them!)
361. Girl with a Pearl Earring, Tracy Chevalier
362. To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf
363. Our Town, Thorton Wilder
364. Green Grass Running Water, Thomas King
335. The Interpreter, Suzanne Glass
336. The Moor's Last Sigh, Salman Rushdie
337. The Mother Tongue, Bill Bryson
338. A Passage to India, E.M. Forster
339. The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky
340. The Phantom of the Opera, Gaston Leroux
341. Pages for You, Sylvia Brownrigg
342. The Changeover, Margaret Mahy
343. Howl's Moving Castle, Diana Wynne Jones
344. Angels and Demons, Dan Brown
345. Johnny Got His Gun, Dalton Trumbo
346. Shosha, Isaac Bashevis Singer
347. Travels With Charley, John Steinbeck
348. The Diving-bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby
349. The Lunatic at Large by J. Storer Clouston
350. Time for Bed by David Baddiel
351. Barrayar by Lois McMaster Bujold
352. Quite Ugly One Morning by Christopher Brookmyre
353. The Bloody Sun by Marion Zimmer Bradley
354. Sewer, Gas, and Eletric by Matt Ruff
355. Jhereg by Steven Brust
356. So You Want To Be A Wizard by Diane Duane
357. Perdido Street Station, China Mieville
358. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Anne Bronte
359. Road-side Dog, Czeslaw Milosz
360. The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje
361. Neuromancer, William Gibson
362. The Epistemology of the Closet, Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick
363. A Canticle for Liebowitz, Walter M. Miller, Jr
364. The Mask of Apollo, Mary Renault
365. The Gunslinger, Stephen King
366. Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare
367. Childhood's End, Arthur C. Clarke
368. A Season of Mists, Neil Gaiman
369. Ivanhoe, Walter Scott
370. The God Boy, Ian Cross
371. The Beekeeper's Apprentice, Laurie R. King
372. Finn Family Moomintroll, Tove Jansson
373. Misery, Stephen King
374. Tipping the Velvet, Sarah Waters
375. Hood, Emma Donoghue
376. The Land of Spices, Kate O'Brien
377. The Diary of Anne Frank
378. Regeneration, Pat Barker
379. Tender is the Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald
380. Dreaming in Cuban, Cristina Garcia
381. A Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway
382. The View from Saturday, E.L. Konigsburg
383. Dealing with Dragons, Patricia Wrede
384. Eats, Shoots & Leaves, Lynne Truss
385. A Severed Wasp - Madeleine L'Engle
386. Here Be Dragons - Sharon Kay Penman
387. The Mabinogion (Ancient Welsh Tales) - translated by Lady Charlotte E. Guest
388. The DaVinci Code - Dan Brown
389. Desire of the Everlasting Hills - Thomas Cahill
390. The Cloister Walk - Kathleen Norris
391. My Antonia, Willa Cather
392. Bell jar, Sylvia Plath
393. The Moonstone, Wilkie Collins
394. Conceived Without Sin, Bud MacFarlane Jr.
395. Pierced by a Sword, Bud MacFarlane, Jr.
396. Tully, Paullina Simons
397. On the Beach, Nevil Shute
398. Cat's Eye, Margaret Atwood
399. Earth Abides, George R. Stewart
400. Double Play - Robert Parker
401. Traveling Mercies - Anne Lamott
402. Bookman's Promise - John Dunning
403. The Witching Hour - Anne Rice
404. Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood
405. The Blind Assassin - Margaret Atwood
406 The Ogre Downstairs - Diana Wynne Jones
407 Sabriel - Garth Nix
408 Creation: Life and How to Make It - Steve Grand
409. The Sound and the Fury - William Faulkner
410. Bastard Out of Carolina - Dorothy Allison
411. I Was a Teenage Fairy - Francesca Lia Block
412. The Glasswright Saga - Mindy Klasky
413. Wraiths of Time - Andre Norton
414. The Lives of Dax - Marco Palmieri (editor)
415. Coyote Blue - Chris Moore
416. Eight Cousins - Louisa May Alcott
417. The Number of the Beast - Robert Heinlein

84 out of 417. About 20%; not too shabby. What's frightening is how many of these books are sitting around in the "to be read" piles or shelves at home...not to mention how many I'd forgotten having read.

I said I wasn't going to do this.

2004-06-03T21:51:06Z

I lied.

I've been wanting to get back to writing for a long while, now, but it seems like RL and miscellaneous circumstances keep getting in the way. So finally I said, "Sod this," (been reading way too much HP fanfic lately, apparently! ) and started in on a new O/K fic.

I have a concept, a sketchy mental outline, and a first chapter.

I have no idea how long this thing will be, by the time it's finished. I have no clue what the final rating will be. I'm not really sure what happens at the end, or how much angst I'll have to slog through before I get there.

Oh, well! ;-)

All I know is that Kira's miserable and keeps poking me in the ribs with those pointy elbows of hers to get me to write. So I wrote. It felt good. And I present herewith, Chapter 1 of "Wrung."

NEW DS9 O/K [WIP - not yet rated] [1/?]

Wrung

by cestsimal

It's been three years, now. A year of upheaval and change, a year of sorting things out, and, finally, a year of beginning to rebuild. Vedek D'Ago calls it a year of beginning to heal, but he's got his own way of looking at things.

And any ex-terrorist knows that, with any serious injury, the old wounds may scab over and the skin may close, but there's still that ache that goes clear to the bone. You can forget about it when you're busy, when you're warm and safe and in the company of friends, but it's still there. You feel it when you're alone and cold, when the first whispers of chill autumn winds steal through and wake the pain. You feel it in the night, when all else is still, and you turn in your sleep. It's still there.

You come to terms with it. It's part of you, like your hands or your nose or your guts. It's part of who you are. You can go for days or even weeks without even thinking about it, sometimes, and even when it does prod you from sleep, sometimes you can just grit your teeth, shift position and try again. You might grumble about the pain itself, but it can be divorced from everything that ties it to you, for the moment. You don't always have to remember how it came to be there. You don't always hear and see what happened when you acquired it, feel the blast of heat or the slash of a blade or the impact of a blow. You don't always close your eyes against the whiteout of sensation that came just before you felt the pain. You don't always reach out to press or cradle the injury, trying to reassure yourself you're still whole, you can contain the damage and go on living.

But sometimes you do. Sometimes you feel the pain in the night and you're back there where it happened. You can see and hear and smell everything that surrounded you at that moment. In a way, it's worse than when it did happen - because this time you know what's coming, and you tense for it. All the events are worn into your pagh like ruts in a well-travelled road. You're going down that path again and every landmark takes you one step closer to the trauma. You press your hand against the part that hurts worst and you relive it all, in a split second.

With me, it can be as simple as rolling onto the cold, empty side of the bed in my sleep. I wake up and stare into blackness, and it hits me. It starts with the look he gave me that night. I can see his shadowed face, then he looks up at me, haunted and guilty, aching. Oh, Prophets! The pain! I feel it in my own pagh, feel his pain burning through me, acrid and bitter.

In memory, my own voice is drowned out by the pounding of my heart and the shrieking pain in my head. I say something to him and can't hear it. He makes no reply, but it's understood between us. A flutter of hope stirs my heart, cruel as a blade, because now I know what's to come.

Blackness, then standing beside him before a darkening sea. I should feel hatred for these entities who shaped him and cast him out and hurt him over and over again, but as I look on the shuddering mass of their collective agony, I can feel only grief.

Grief that we ever found them, that he ever learned the bitter truth about his origins.

Grief that any race could be so brutal, cold and cruel to someone who was made for tenderness and compassion.

Grief that he could not or would not disown them, no matter what they did to him.

Grief that despite everything, they have won. He has chosen them over me.

No. No, that's not right. He chose justice and duty over love. The thought is no less bitter, but I owe him the truth.

One golden moment now, as he turns and wraps me in his arms and kisses me. Prophets and forgotten gods, I can't bear this! I want it never to end. Wrap me in your warmth and safety and love and hold me until there is nothing left of either of us. Let the universe do what it will, only never let me go!

And then it comes. Whiteout. Harsh light burning away all sight, sound and sensation. No air. No thought.

PAIN!

I can't. I can't. I CAN'T!

NO!

Sight returns first, even before breath. I see him walking away from me, to join them. Turning back to me with tenderness and love on his face, even as he's beginning to shimmer and merge into their shapelessness.

PAIN...

His golden face is the last bit of him I can see. He's gone. A golden wave spreads outward from where he...

PAIN...

The sea brightens as his gift to them changes it from black to gold. The roiling waves calm and relax into smaller, softer ripples.

My sight is gone again. Or something. Everything is blurred. I think my heart stopped a while back, and I've forgotten how to breathe.

PAIN. Silent screaming. It hurts, it hurts, oh, Prophets! There's too much of it. Too much. I can't hold it. I can't release it. It will destroy me. I can't...

But I must. Duty. We both have our duties to perform. Responsibilities to take up. Prophets, it hurts! But I am strong. I can do this. I can't do this. I can't leave him. He left me. I can't...

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It's only a memory. Calm down. Deep breaths. Yes, the pain's still there. It'll always be there. It hurts, but I'm not dying. It's not raw and bleeding; it's been three years. It's scabbed over. I'll survive. Deep breath.

It hurts.

[end of part 1]