Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
The Wisconsin senate just passed their anti-union bill without the Democrats, by stripping every budgeting item out of it:


So, don't let those lying bastards tell you that this was about the budget. It was about denying workers the right to collectively bargain. It was about starting the process that is continuing all over the country by Republican governors to break the backs of unions: the only outfits with any money at all to fund campaigns, besides corporations, which primarily fund Republicans.

This is about crushing the Democratic Party, using the bodies of workers as stones.
A unionized public employee, a member of the Tea Party and a CEO are sitting at a table. In the middle of the table there is a plate with a dozen cookies on it.
The CEO reaches across and takes 11 cookies, looks at the tea partier and whispers, "Look out for that union guy! He wants a piece of your cookie".
I turned my bathtub blue today.

It's been decades since I indulged in the workman's pleasure of shrinking my own pair of Levis 501's to fit. Everyone's ritual is different so I made my own. I soaked in a hot bath with them on, noticing my hands and feet already turning blue from the dye, then stood up under the bathroom's sunlamp and let them shrink. It was taking a while, and I had to sleep for work tonight, so I rolled the jeans up in towels. Then I cleaned up the tub and went to bed.

When it came time to wake up and go to work, I unrolled the towels and put on the damp jeans, then rode the motorcycle to work. Bit cold but I had synthetic layers underneath. And now I'm still sitting on towels to avoid getting indigo dye everywhere, but it looks like a success.

I had to roll up the cuffs a good four inches to keep from dragging them on the ground when I left. Just now I had to unroll them and the cuffs are the perfect length. I'm not sure I'll get used to the high waist though.

On the way home I'll get a gallon of distilled vinegar. Not to cook with! This stuff's only good for cleaning coffee makers and for setting dye into fabric. Yes, in the tub again. It'll keep it from turning all the laundry blue when it makes it to the wash.
2010 was fine for me up until this last month.

I got a good job. Real job, no contract/temp agency.
I got a great motorcycle.
I worked on understanding myself.
And on the last day of November, we were told that the landlord planned on moving back to the country, and on living at the house we were renting. So it became time to move.
30 days later, my back and arms are protesting, but the stuff is in the new place. And at a new office. And the best stuff we didn't want is going to Dawn's family in San Diego.

It's interesting that I don't have much to say because it's always conflict that brings out my most evocative writing. But I don't have the same sort of life as I used to, where I was expecting to be laid off and to have to take small gigs.

I don't feel as though I have to fight to discover who I am.

2011 is looking pretty good from here.


Dec. 19th, 2010 12:46 pm
Well, the big items are here. Along with all the little boxes, soon to be empty boxes, shuttled to the old place to become full boxes again.

The new place is fine but the perimeter road around the apartment buildings has a tendency to flood in heavy rain.

I was happy to pay for the Wireless-N super gaming router. The cable comes in on the first floor and my bedroom's on the second. It only makes sense. My FPS friends are incredulous. No one can game wirelessly! :O

We've got a couple weeks to move the rest of the boxes and then we will have a couple weeks to clean and make the place ready for inspection.

(Incidentally, I have a collection of parts in the shape of a 1980 Suzuki GS750 motorcycle that needs to be sold. Clean title, non-op since 2008.)
If you'd like to help contribute to Michaela's Midnight Letters and you can sketch something in the next two weeks, visit this journal entry on FurAffinity. I will pay you ten bucks up front plus a free copy when it's published.

Furry Artists: It's time for me to commission some B&W art, just a small badge or bookmark size, and the signup will be soon. Please have a look at the journal below and watch the Michaela account if you want to sign up for this! I WANT TO GIVE YOU MY HARD EARNED MONEY.


New place

Dec. 7th, 2010 03:08 pm
Hell yes. New apartment complex. Comfy, spacious, new paint, carpet, and appliances.
Move-in is the 15th and we will be moving one carload at a time between then and the 31st.
More news later if y'all want to help.
i am needed.
just because someone can't deal with me when i am sad
and would rather provoke me to anger
(because angry men are so much more familiar than sad men?)
does not change that i am needed,
at work and at home.
my existence is meaningful to me.
there is work to be done,
and i will do it.
This is the link I posted into [livejournal.com profile] neogeen's Art Jam of Awesomeness stream. Because damn. I could have sworn I saw a T. rex with tea and jammy cakes.

P.S. Thank you for sending me fail html, Comedy Central. Close your tags.
Well the landlord wants his house back.
45 days from now.
Who knows where I can find a nice 3 bedroom apartment?
We're talking away,
But I don't know what
I'm to say -
I'll say it anyway.
Today's another day to find you
Shying away;
I'll be coming for your love, OK?
Wow. I've got four days off next week to help me get through the switch from Graveyard to Day Shift. Two days off (really one and a half because I punch out at 7am in Sunday). Then working, day shift, Tuesday and Wednesday, then off Thursday and Friday, then on Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.

So now I'll be working the weekends as my scheduled shift, and I'll have to set the alarm for 5:30 in the bloody morning, but I don't care, because it's better than working nights.
In Sunday school, I was taught that it was wrong to be angry at someone -- for any reason -- unless it was "Righteous Anger". Then it was our duty to Hulk Out, tip over tables, smash the sacred doves' cages, and horse-whip the hell out of the moneychangers.

Then when I got older, I would read the papers and watch the TV, realizing that it was all just a big excuse, that people were going to get angry, but community standards backed by their religion of peace held them back from being angry for most reasons, so they found a way to frame it as a Righteous Anger situation.

I learned that it wasn't Christianity that led people to be mean, but that people could use their Christianity as a cloak for their meanness, and that would get it overlooked.

Three people know this and they are pushing righteous fury into people's heads day after day: Rush Limbaugh, Michael Savage, and Glenn Beck. These people know that their listeners crave the need to feel righteous, like Jesus casting out the moneychangers. Every damned weekday we are told that it's the fags' fault we don't feel masculine anymore, that you shouldn't accept a helping hand from a filthy liberal, and the reason we're broke is because of welfare; not to mention they're telling you that they have a monopoly on truth, and if you listen to anyone else but them you're being lied to.

Once someone is convinced of their inner righteousness, they discard any evidence to the contrary. And that's when we get beatings, lynchings, vigilantism, curbstomping; and reactionary Christians insist you can't call those hate crimes, because they're expressions of righteous anger.
Well, one of the graveyard guys has been out on medical leave for the last few weeks, and so that's where I've been, filling in on the third shift tech support. It's not pleasant, but it's quiet. The worst part is missing all the weekend socializing.

I took the first weekend of the month off to go see Infected Mushroom in S.F. I didn't want to ride home shaking off a post-concert buzz hurtling down a dark highway, so I got on Priceline and rented a nearby hotel room. My 'trip home after the concert' became a three-block walk instead of a 60-mile ride.
I talked to someone else in the same boat, unwilling to try to ride home sleepy, and rather than see him struggle with the decision to go to the concert, I offered him the other half of the hotel room.

The concert rocked. Simon Posford and his magical electronic boxes entertained us, and the seaweed dancers were kind of de rigeur for any electronic concert. The day-glo sleepsacks and the dancing-puppetry they inspired was new. But then he was done; the instruments were wheeled on, and two red parachutes started to inflate... and soon they unfurled into evil mushrooms! The music started as soon as the decorations took shape, and the band didn't let up, only letting us get some applause in during quiet parts of their songs.

Of course enough of the people who were in the balcony got up from their seats and stood up along the lower rail, obliging the rest of us sitting in the balcony to stand up as well, in order to see the stage at all. I was able to get my cell phone out, hold it over my head, and record some video from the balcony.

Video from the concert! )

And then we stayed up to watch Once Upon a Time in Mexico on the hotel's cable, which is how people that didn't play Jet Moto 3 found out about Juno Reactor's song "Pistolero".

THEN we slept.
THEN we ate.
And THEN we drove home.
Much more civilized.
I feel like I'm just plodding from one task to the next. My work is to answer phones and take customers' anger and fear away from them. No safety equipment is available to shield me from being affected by everyone's fear and anger. It's data. Don't trust it to cheap hard drives, make backups, then make backups of your backups.
The motorcycle has a headlight modulator now. It was a big job cutting and soldering everything in, and now the headlight blinks during the day so drivers notice me.
I'm looking forward to starting with a new doctor and enjoying the benefits of medical coverage. My mood has been getting worse and I need to take care of myself.
The office has a company picnic on Saturday. I had considered skipping it because they have enough of my time, but this job is different. It's the first non-temp position I've had in years. So I'll go. New place to ride, and free barbecue.
There's just not enough time or paychecks for us to finish the magazine, print it, AND fly to Pittsburgh for a weekend, and we have a lot of people just finding out about the magazine and I want to include their contributions... but we don't need to do this on a rush, so I'm going to extend the deadline and miss the con. Don't miss our fliers.

I apologize and I hope you guys party hard without me. \m/ \m/