Less sick than I was!

1. My GOODNESS, I feel so much better today! I spent almost all of yesterday in bed, reading and watching videos. Now I merely have constant snot and a sporadically wracking cough. Go Team!

2. I did do five loads of dishes, though. I think I’ve mentioned this before — we don’t have a built-in dishwasher, we have a small, rollaway dishwasher suitable for a single person or a couple who doesn’t cook much. In a household of five + dogs, this means it’s too small. So when I skip a day, like Tuesday, the next two days are a race to catch up.

3. The kids and I, for school, watched a documentary about the Massacre at Fort Mystic. This, for those of you who may not know, was the massacre of the Pequot tribe by a coalition of Pilgrim settlers and Narraganset and Mohegan in 1637. It was the introduction of “total warfare” to the New England area, and the subsequent Treaty of Hartford set the tone for tribal relations for the next … two hundred years or so.

My son copes with these sorts of historical realities by blowing fireballs, rockets, bombs, or lasers at whichever side he perceives to be the Bad Guys in the fight. M has, as an instructor mentioned to us, “a highly developed sense of justice.” In this case he was firebombing the English settlers. As coping mechanisms go, I think this is perfectly acceptable for a seven-year-old. The urge to rush in and help the helpless and downtrodden is not an urge I’m inclined to quash.

I, of course, found the part about the resurgence of the Pequot Nation in the 1970s, the hopeful and triumphant part, to be absolutely tear-jerking. But that may just be me.

4. I’ve been re-reading Finder, specifically The Finder Library, vol. 1. I’ve talked about this on Fantastic Fangirls, a bit, but I do so love these stories. I’m taking my time on this re-read. Looking carefully at the art, checking the footnotes. It’s worth the time.

5. I read Jennifer Traig’s Well Enough Alone, the memoir of her hypochondria. The book is really hilariously funny. If you like memoirs of illness by incredibly self-aware, wry people, this is for you.

Nothing to see here, folks

1. Lo, I am sick and pathetic and at work. I’ve been up since two, since my sore throat woke me up. But I did get a load of dishes done before I came in.

2. I’m at work because I don’t have enough sick leave to get the day off. But I did swap into an all-day training class, so I don’t have to talk, think, or deal with aircraft. You, the flying public, are welcome.

3. I started watching Read or Die last night (and this morning at 2:00 am). More accurately, I’m watching R.O.D. – the TV. That’s apparently the name of it. Not “the TV show,” or anything, just “the TV” Which I keep reading as “transvestite.” But, anyway, it’s the sequel to the Read or Die OVA and Read or Dream — or, at least, that’s what Wikipedia says? I really like it so far. More shows about groups of super-powered women who are friends and family!

4. I should order more volumes of Fullmetal Alchemist from my library.

1. I like the Sucker Punch soundtrack rather a lot. I like very much that Emily Browning sings two of the tracks, I like Skunk Anansie’s two tracks, I find the sexy-slink Emiliana Torrini cover of “White Rabbit” to be freaking amazing.

2. I am downloading covers of White Rabbit from Zune.

3. I read vols 20-24 of Fullmetal Alchemist this weekend. No real thoughts yet, except that the homunculi are really super creepy.

4. I have a sore throat, am losing my voice, and generally feel like a microscopic assault is being waged upon my body by invisible assailants. The countermeasures produced are not comfy either.

How the sausage gets made

Apparently some guy fell asleep on the mid shift at an airport on the east coast recently. So now we have a rule saying that, on the mid shift, we are required to make sure the controllers around us are awake before we give planes to them.

I don’t know about you, but I tend to make sure the controllers around me are awake even without a special rule saying so …

Movies this week

I ended up seeing a number of movies this week, it turns out.

Battle: Los Angeles — The United States is, it seems, really scared of what will happen to us if we are ever invaded they way we invade other countries. Other than that minor interesting point I didn’t think the film was very good.

Red Riding Hood — This was a hot mess. The engine of a werewolf movie is Fear of Ourselves, and Fear of Sex. The engine of Red Riding Hood is Fear of Sex, and Fear of The Outside. The film managed to combine the two stories while leaving out all of the engine themes. I’m not sure how they managed that. However, the production team DID somehow include a nightclub dance-orgy-party scene in fairy-tale medieval faux-Europe. Impressive. One last note — if the trees in your forests are covered with three-foot-long thorns, by the end of the film I want to see at least ONE person or creature impaled on them. Just sayin’.

Paul — Paul was very funny, very good, and not quite as stunningly amazing as Hot Fuzz. Also, I think Frost and Pegg really don’t like conservative Christian Americans.

Sucker Punch — I loved it, and it was a hot mess, and I will be talking about it more elsewhere, I think.

Georgiana

I am reading Georgiana Duchess of Devonshire, by Amanda Foreman, and I came across this on my Tumblr feed:

It’s so apropos.

Georgiana is smart, personable, witty, social astute, emotionally damaged, pathologically insecure, and destructively needy. I adore her. Her relationship — her codependent, destructive, passive-aggressive, poorly communicated, incandescent rollercoaster relationship — with Bess reminds me of nothing so much as adolescence. Adolescence played on with half a million pounds a year, across at least two countries, with the British Parliament and French Revolution as backdrop. Talk about a blaze of glory.

House arrest, with books.

The kids successfully flew by themselves to Chicago to visit their grandmother, and successfully returned. Their adventures included the Museum of Science and Industry, the Children’s Museum, seeing their cousins, and watching a vast ton of Pokemon movies. Said Pokemon movies returned home with the children, a feat which my mother informs me is “grandparent privilege.”

Upon re-entry to the house after a vacation, usually the kids are a bit … problematic. There’s resistance to the resumption of rules and schedules and chores. This time, K has ended up on what I call house arrest.

When you, o child of mine, demonstrate that your judgment is insufficient for you to make good decisions when out of my sight, then you must remain in my sight. House arrest lasts about a day or so, and it’s frankly hard on the adults to keep up. I don’t want to follow you around the house while you pick out socks! Not my idea of a good time! But when you choose to, not at all hypothetically, tie your self into a rope sling suspended from the basement rafters, incite your brother to cut your dolls’ hair, and color on your socks in crayon, your judgment is clearly not up to the task.

House arrest is tedious. Yet, as I said on Twitter last night, we’re not barbarians. House arrest means you sit around and read books. K and I went upstairs (so she could feed Togepi and Piku, her stuffed Pokemon, their dinner) and picked out some books. John Bellairs, The Ghost in Mirror. Two Famous Five books. The first Arana tpb collection. An anthology of Greek myth. Eyewitness Insects. The Pokedex. This is in addition to the book we are reading to the kids in the morning and at bedtime, Caddie Woodlawn. And in addition to books we read for school.

I think about a dozen people on Twitter yesterday said they would rather be on house arrest with K than go to work.

In the meantime, it’s snowing and sleeting and blustery here, and the reports I’m getting indicate that driving conditions are not good. So we’re not going to the Y this morning but are staying in. I expect I’ll make the kids go play outside for a bit so they can run around before school. I was sort of looking forward to the Y today, actually. I’ll make up for it by biking in the basement, I suppose.

House arrest indeed.

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