This one's because I seem to be really bad at thwacking people on the thumb when fencing, sometimes with the rapier, other times with a buckler. It's been done more than once. Fingernails have been lost. The name was given by the one who's thumbs I repeatedly seem to thwack. I swear, it's not on purpose!
On a completely different note:
I don't particularly care for people who sneer at my music without ever listening to it. I rather dislike those who scoff at me because I am passionate about hobbies that are rather unconventional. But I despise them when they make fun of my friends without taking the time to get to know them. And then tell me that I shouldn't judge others. It makes me want to be very, very rude. I'm still not sure why I restrained myself. Actually, I do. But I'm not sure it's a good enough reason.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
News
I don't know how much news I actually have. Let me think...
Things are going well in the state of Wyoming. Especially since it is now warmer here than where most of my readers will be! (hahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!) It was right around 50 degrees this afternoon. It was lovely. Unfortunately, I spent all of that lovely weather inside at work, cataloging artifacts in between long, wistful stares out the window, wishing I could be running around exploring instead of cataloging. Let me tell you, burned bone bits and "debitage"--flakes of rock, that is--do not hold my attention when winter is coming to an end and the weather is warming up! Although, we are supposed to get more snow this weekend. Which is really a good thing, considering WY has been suffering from serious drought and they need all the moisture they can get.
Actually, Rocca gets me through the dullest of work days more than anything. Rocca is a Shiba Inu. Dog, that is. One of the guys brings his dog to work every day. In the absence of babies to play with, Rocca is the next best thing. Anyway, I'm just antsy for field season so I can get outside. I've been on two construction monitors in the gasfield and hour and a half away, which means we drive up there, check out a trench and say, "Nope, there's no artifacts in there," and go home. But even that was unbelievably entertaining, just to get out of the office for awhile. I'm beginning to realize that the outdoors is what attracts me to archaeology as much as the artifacts. I don't understand Plains archaeology. I mean, I know how it's done. But I don't know much about the cultural context from which the artifacts come. I told Wade so the other day. He voluntarily lent me his George Frison book so that I could learn more about it. The Frison book is his precious, and he has never before let anyone use it out of his sight. I got to take it home. He did tell me that if anything happened to it, he would take my first-born child. I asked, what happens if I don't have any? He said, oh, that I would have at least 20. I think that made my day.
Things are going well in the state of Wyoming. Especially since it is now warmer here than where most of my readers will be! (hahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!) It was right around 50 degrees this afternoon. It was lovely. Unfortunately, I spent all of that lovely weather inside at work, cataloging artifacts in between long, wistful stares out the window, wishing I could be running around exploring instead of cataloging. Let me tell you, burned bone bits and "debitage"--flakes of rock, that is--do not hold my attention when winter is coming to an end and the weather is warming up! Although, we are supposed to get more snow this weekend. Which is really a good thing, considering WY has been suffering from serious drought and they need all the moisture they can get.
Actually, Rocca gets me through the dullest of work days more than anything. Rocca is a Shiba Inu. Dog, that is. One of the guys brings his dog to work every day. In the absence of babies to play with, Rocca is the next best thing. Anyway, I'm just antsy for field season so I can get outside. I've been on two construction monitors in the gasfield and hour and a half away, which means we drive up there, check out a trench and say, "Nope, there's no artifacts in there," and go home. But even that was unbelievably entertaining, just to get out of the office for awhile. I'm beginning to realize that the outdoors is what attracts me to archaeology as much as the artifacts. I don't understand Plains archaeology. I mean, I know how it's done. But I don't know much about the cultural context from which the artifacts come. I told Wade so the other day. He voluntarily lent me his George Frison book so that I could learn more about it. The Frison book is his precious, and he has never before let anyone use it out of his sight. I got to take it home. He did tell me that if anything happened to it, he would take my first-born child. I asked, what happens if I don't have any? He said, oh, that I would have at least 20. I think that made my day.
A series of explanations
Once again, just for Sparkles, who has requested gradual, eventual revelation of the meanings behind various titles. :)
Handmaiden of Doom and Seeker of Schlepers go together, really. When the Mistress of Doom became the Queen of Northshield (and hence, the Queen of Doom) in the SCA, she naturally needed handmaidens to help her out in the hectic-ness that is being royalty. And who would pass up the opportunity to be called a Handmaiden of Doom?! I don't actually know how Anne became the Mistress of Doom in the first place, except that Sven had something to do with it. Maybe that would be a good blog post for her. Hint, hint? Anyway, I told her that I had no intention of schleping things around (I think I forgot about that, because I've done that anyway) (schlep meaning drag/cart/carry/lug) but that I would be in charge of seeking out people to do it for her. Hence, Seeker of Schlepers.
Stay tuned for our next episode in "Explanation of Titles."
Handmaiden of Doom and Seeker of Schlepers go together, really. When the Mistress of Doom became the Queen of Northshield (and hence, the Queen of Doom) in the SCA, she naturally needed handmaidens to help her out in the hectic-ness that is being royalty. And who would pass up the opportunity to be called a Handmaiden of Doom?! I don't actually know how Anne became the Mistress of Doom in the first place, except that Sven had something to do with it. Maybe that would be a good blog post for her. Hint, hint? Anyway, I told her that I had no intention of schleping things around (I think I forgot about that, because I've done that anyway) (schlep meaning drag/cart/carry/lug) but that I would be in charge of seeking out people to do it for her. Hence, Seeker of Schlepers.
Stay tuned for our next episode in "Explanation of Titles."
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Two blog posts in one day? No one can live at that speed!
Just before I left Vermillion, several of us went out to eat downtown, and after the food was cleared away, napkin hyjinks commenced. I was told that I needed to start a blog and post them online. A month and a half later, here it is! PLEASE keep in mind, I had no hand in writing these...!
1o Things to Do While Missing Jessica:
1. Hang out with goat ropers and worms
2. Walk about and tell people randomly "You're adopted!"
3. Take forever ordering food.
4. Force leprechauns to breed with chickens so that we can have our very own goblins.
5. Dress Karl up as Jessica and have him assume her identity.
6. Dream about *nobody in particular.*
7. Walk around the house in too-big of slippers, gloves, a scarf, and a stocking cap.
8. Complain about not having a copy of Escaflowne for 2 1/2 years.
9. Corrupt Hot Hrodwin instead.
10. Convince people that there really is NO table in the kitchen!
10 Things Jessica Will Do in Wyoming:
1. Play in the dirt lookin' for stuff...and find a space pirate's ship and their booty!
2. Complain that she needs a boy to open pickle jars.
3. Keep wishing the table wasn't there.
4. Walk around and tell people she's adopted.
5. Go on a killing spree after finding out her boyfriend of 6 years is Mormon.
6. Search for Snowy River.
7. Shout "Hey, I found a rock!"
8. Save a horse and ride a cowboy.
9. While out doing #6, she'll do #2. She'll trip and say #7 then realize that actually #1 happened. then the Feds show up. She tells them #4, offers #8, and after dating the Fed for years does #5.
10. Use "antidisestablishmentarianism" in an academic paper.
1o Things to Do While Missing Jessica:
1. Hang out with goat ropers and worms
2. Walk about and tell people randomly "You're adopted!"
3. Take forever ordering food.
4. Force leprechauns to breed with chickens so that we can have our very own goblins.
5. Dress Karl up as Jessica and have him assume her identity.
6. Dream about *nobody in particular.*
7. Walk around the house in too-big of slippers, gloves, a scarf, and a stocking cap.
8. Complain about not having a copy of Escaflowne for 2 1/2 years.
9. Corrupt Hot Hrodwin instead.
10. Convince people that there really is NO table in the kitchen!
10 Things Jessica Will Do in Wyoming:
1. Play in the dirt lookin' for stuff...and find a space pirate's ship and their booty!
2. Complain that she needs a boy to open pickle jars.
3. Keep wishing the table wasn't there.
4. Walk around and tell people she's adopted.
5. Go on a killing spree after finding out her boyfriend of 6 years is Mormon.
6. Search for Snowy River.
7. Shout "Hey, I found a rock!"
8. Save a horse and ride a cowboy.
9. While out doing #6, she'll do #2. She'll trip and say #7 then realize that actually #1 happened. then the Feds show up. She tells them #4, offers #8, and after dating the Fed for years does #5.
10. Use "antidisestablishmentarianism" in an academic paper.
An Explanation
Since Sparkles has requested an explanation of the title of my blog "In Denial of the Existence of Tables," I am going to take a moment to do so.
It began, as many things did, with an argument between myself and Kaia.
"You know you love me," she said. I denied it, naturally.
"Yes you do," she replied, "or why would you have come in here to sit by me while you eat breakfast?"
"Because there is a table in here," I said.
"There's a table in the kitchen too!"
"No there isn't."
Evidently I said this last line with a perfectly believable expression and tone of voice, and she decided that she couldn't really argue with that.
(For those of you who have not been in my house, there technically is a table in the kitchen. But I didn't just admit to that.)
The story, however, continues, when another friend of mine, who had been in that house long before us girls ever rented it and who knows very well that there is a table in the kitchen, came over to visit. Somewhere in conversation one of us said "Yeah, well, there is no table in the kitchen!" He looked confused. So I said "Well there isn't! Go and look for yourself! " So he did. And came back looking even more confused. It was priceless.
Since then, whenever I want to win an argument, and can't do it by logic, I simply declare that there is no table in the kitchen. So the Mistress of Doom has dubbed me the Denier of Tables. I like it. Very much.
It began, as many things did, with an argument between myself and Kaia.
"You know you love me," she said. I denied it, naturally.
"Yes you do," she replied, "or why would you have come in here to sit by me while you eat breakfast?"
"Because there is a table in here," I said.
"There's a table in the kitchen too!"
"No there isn't."
Evidently I said this last line with a perfectly believable expression and tone of voice, and she decided that she couldn't really argue with that.
(For those of you who have not been in my house, there technically is a table in the kitchen. But I didn't just admit to that.)
The story, however, continues, when another friend of mine, who had been in that house long before us girls ever rented it and who knows very well that there is a table in the kitchen, came over to visit. Somewhere in conversation one of us said "Yeah, well, there is no table in the kitchen!" He looked confused. So I said "Well there isn't! Go and look for yourself! " So he did. And came back looking even more confused. It was priceless.
Since then, whenever I want to win an argument, and can't do it by logic, I simply declare that there is no table in the kitchen. So the Mistress of Doom has dubbed me the Denier of Tables. I like it. Very much.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
The Lion in Winter
Oh, how I do love that movie! I found it yesterday in the local movie/book/music store, and snatched it up. I rank it right up there with Shakespeare as far as writing quality goes. If I were wearing a hat, it would be off to James Goldman. (I guess I wouldn't really be wearing it anymore, then, would I?) The scenery and costuming always amazes me as well--it's the most authentically medieval-looking movie I've seen yet. They didn't try to dress it up at all.
It's not so much comedy as it is the irony in the movie that makes you laugh, and then at the end, feel sorry for the characters. Not because life has dealt them a rough hand, but because they've played it so badly. I'm more inclined to feel sorry for people when they have brought their troubles on themselves, interestingly enough. It's not nice coming to the realization that you've got no one to blame but yourself. I've been there. And then in the very end, hope comes, in the strangest of places, sitting on a cold, dusty floor in a castle cellar. When everything you ever had is now gone. Amidst tears, grim smiles, and despair. "We're both alive, and for all I know, that's what hope is," he says. Finding even that much hope in the deepest darkness takes courage. I suppose, you might say, the courage that a lion needs to face the winter?
It's not so much comedy as it is the irony in the movie that makes you laugh, and then at the end, feel sorry for the characters. Not because life has dealt them a rough hand, but because they've played it so badly. I'm more inclined to feel sorry for people when they have brought their troubles on themselves, interestingly enough. It's not nice coming to the realization that you've got no one to blame but yourself. I've been there. And then in the very end, hope comes, in the strangest of places, sitting on a cold, dusty floor in a castle cellar. When everything you ever had is now gone. Amidst tears, grim smiles, and despair. "We're both alive, and for all I know, that's what hope is," he says. Finding even that much hope in the deepest darkness takes courage. I suppose, you might say, the courage that a lion needs to face the winter?
Monday, February 18, 2008
I've still got it
I made pie yesterday. Peach. Fresh peaches. And it's still true. I really do make the best pies I have ever eaten. Besides my mother's. But that only makes sense when you consider that I make them exactly the same way.
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