Home repair projects!

The last forty-eight hours saw me:

scrape the basement walls free of old paint
wash the walls
go to the hardware store for forgotten things
sweep the floor of lead paint chips and flakes
paint the walls with Drylok [girlfriend helped with this, thank you Laura!]
paint the second coat of the walls
remove the remaining furniture [at this point my daughter helped with everything following; thank you, buff and hella-strong athlete child!]
sweep the floor again
mop the floor
scrub the floor
mop the floor
dry the floor
scrub the stairs
dry the stairs
paint the floor
paint the stairs

Also:

teach school
go to the library for the weekly run
drop my car off for replacement bearings [J picked it up, thank you J!]
do multiple loads of dishes
take children to and from circus
go to small dog play group at the park

Somewhere is all of this, I have Done Something Untoward to my right wrist/forearm. I’ve got it in a brace again today, and am on a steady regime of ibuprofen. (Yesterday was ibuprofen and icing. It’s better this morning.) And, more importantly, J is doing the second coat of paint today.

Tomorrow we go the the hardware store AGAIN, this time with the kids so they can pick out paint for their new (old) furniture.

Home repair/remodel projects. They are relentless.

In the middle of the work yesterday, my phone twanged at me. It was a text message from Kelly Sue DeConnick’s Bitches Get Stuff Done inspirational text-list. It said, “Get back to work.”

I smiled, full of virtue and accomplishment, and resumed painting.

.
.

Geek Girl Con 2014!

I am back from Geek Girl Con!

It was a great con, and I had a blast.

On a strictly personal note the drugs I was on for my throat WORKED, and I could talk, pain-free, all weekend. NOR did I throw my back out on the first day, the way I did last year.

\o/

The actual convention was pretty damn fun. I chatted with Adrian and Mick of Optimystical Studios, I met some friends-of-friends, and some of the great authors who have submitted work to Apex Magazine in the last year came up to say hi to me.

I was on one panel, The Carol Corps and the Emerging Face of Fandom. We had a pretty good time, despite the 10:00 a.m. Sunday morning slot. Many thanks, AGAIN, to all of y’all who got out of bed and made it to the con for the first panel of the day! And special thanks to Kelly Sue DeConnick, who was in NYCC, for sending Kit Cox to the panel with a swag bag for giveaways. (Kit, it was great to meet you! Thanks again!)

The panelists were myself, Anika Dane, her daughter Aeris, Sam Einhorn, and Jon Singer. And then Kit came up and did the swag giveaway. And then I roped Jason Thibeault into joining us to talk about the intersectionality of groups fighting evil. The crowd was great, the participation was great, and I am always brought to sniffles by how damn much everyone in the Carol Corps CARES. About comics. About each other. About the world. About everything.

The rest of the con was, overall, pretty good. I like Seattle. I liked the hotel. I ate at the Blue Water Taco Grill three times, because, YUM.

Good times. I hope I can make it back next year.

.
.

Kalepocalypse

So I ordered an extra box of kale from our CSA, because KALE!

It arrived yesterday.

Um.

That was a lot of kale.

I spent the entire evening blanching and freezing kale.

Onward!

.
.

Still and again this question arises

What do we do about missing stairs?

What so we do when we find out that someone in our community is a bully, or a stalker, or a creeper, or a sock-puppet-wielding narcissist?

No laws are broken. No rules trampled. Merely the trust by which society operates and thrives.

What do we do when we find out?

I am never the person sinned against, these days. Oh sure, in my youth I was creeped at, I was intimidated, I was taken advantage of. Whatever. Water under the bridge, and we’ve all moved on. My point is, none of this shit ever happens to ME these days. I just hear about it through third parties.

So what do I get to do?

Nothing, usually.

Yesterday I learned of another such missing stair. I haven’t been impacted by this person AT ALL. I could out them with ease and no consequences.

No consequences for me.

It’s not my call. It’s not my call to out the victims in the collateral. It’s not my place to reveal abuses that don’t happen to me.

When someone’s trust has been violated, I do not get to violate that trust further, not even ‘for their own good.’

So what do we do, internet of well-intentioned people? How do we handle these things?

This is why we have missing stairs.

We have got to come up with a better way.

.

CHAI!

I really love chai.

The darker the light turns in autumn, the colder the mornings and evenings are, the more I crave spicy chai tea. I just want the stimulation, I want to TASTE something, to counteract the bland chill of life.

Yet I really dislike commercial chai teas.

For one thing, they are FULL of sugar. I don’t need that much sugar in a drink I am going to have five times a day. For another, there are a lot of ingredients I can neither identify nor pronounce in the commercial packets. I don’t really want five mugs of glycomystery every day.

I want tea/em>. I want tea that tastes good.

So I’ve been making my own chai.

Here’s where I’m at this autumn:

2 cinnamon sticks
6 cloves
16-30 dried cardamon pods
2-3 teaspoons preserved crystallized ginger

Grind those together in a spice grinder (aka a coffee grinder.)

Add three heaping teaspoons of loose-leaf black tea, like an English Breakfast blend or something.

Shake it all up in a bag or a tin or something. Makes three servings.

To serve:

Pour about a half-inch of half-and-half, milk, or cream in the bottom of your mug. Put your tea blend into the strainer or tea-ball of your choice. Let the water get really hot — boiling, as it needs to heat the cold milk. Pout the water into the mug, let sit about five minutes. Remove the strainer, drink.

To make it spicier, add 2-4 black peppercorns or cumin seeds to the initial mix, making sure they get chopped up in the mix.

.
.

It’s good news, just, inconvenient …

We found someone to come put drain tile and a sump pump in the basement!!

On MONDAY.

Ergkh.

We have to empty the rooms of the basement affected by Sunday evening.

Ergkh.

We’ve been working on it this week, and will continue to do so through the weekend.

I could hashtag this #myexcitinglife.

Ah well.

.
.

Who’s the punchline, here?

So, there’s an ad for an iPhone trade-in.

If you haven’t seen it, the gist of the ad is as follows:

Guy sees an ad saying he can trade in his iPhone for the new one. His current phone wakes up and asks him what’s going on. Guy denies anything is happening. He walks to his car, his phone asks him if it can plot a route for him. He says he can handle it himself. The phone plays “Just the Two of Us” while they are in the car. As he walks into the store to make the trade, the phone tries to get his attention again, and he switches it off.

Funny, huh? The phone, see, is acting like a person! It doesn’t want to be … what, exactly? It doesn’t want to be abandoned? Broken up with? Sold? … Killed?

Throughout this commercial, the phone speaks in a woman’s voice. It’s the Siri voice, of course. It’s an iPhone.

The effect, unintentional or deliberate, is of a woman trying to get the man who controls her to … what, exactly? To tell her the truth? To keep her? To spare her life?

Sure, sure, it’s supposed to be funny because it’s just a PHONE, right? It’s funny because it’s a PHONE begging for its life.

It’s funny because we’re comparing something trivial to something way too important, right? We’re comparing trading in a phone to … emotional abuse, overcontrolling men lying to and manipulating women, possibly domestic violence and murder.

Because that’s funny.

Or, not. Really. At all.

Even the kindest interpretation of the metaphor is lousy. In the best, kindest metaphor, the guy is in a relationship with a needy, clingy, desperate woman whom he no longer desires because something better has come along, and instead of breaking off the relationship cleanly the man lies and hides his intentions from an increasingly-desperate partner, until he ultimately runs away without explanation.

Because, I don’t know, crazy bitches are clingy monsters? Is that the funny part? Is the funny part that women don’t deserve honesty? Or is it that new women are always better than established relationships? Or perhaps the lying to your partner is the funny part of this metaphor?

In the most sinister version of the metaphor, the man sees a woman he wants more, lies to his partner who he controls so utterly that she can’t get away from him and must merely attempt to placate him, and then kills her to shut her up before he goes to meet the new woman.

Funny, funny commercial, comparing a new phone to a new relationship. Comparing leaving an old phone to leaving an old relationship. Comparing the phone to a woman. Comparing the phone to a woman one no longer desires. Comparing the phone to a woman who is afraid of being left. Comparing the phone to a woman who is lied to. Comparing the phone to a woman who is lied to, taken to a place where she will be abandoned, and then silenced.

Funny, funny commercial.

Endemic, entrenched, relentless, unavoidable cultural misogyny. It’s in everything. It’s everywhere.

.
.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,343 other followers