I am wondering if I know anyone who is going to vote for a Conservative candidate this time around.

I must. But none of them have talked to me about the election yet.

My opinion of the current PM is going to bias me heavily against any and all representatives of his party. I can't help but wonder if there's anyone in my circle who has a high opinion of Harper, or who doesn't but still intends to support the Conservative candidate in their riding.

I was walking down the street yesterday with a friend, and someone stopped us for directions. And then someone else stopped us with a mic and recorder, and asked if we'd been following the federal election.

My first response is usually to run like hell for this sort of thing. But her first question was, "Prime Minister Harper has said that he believes Canadians are becoming more conservative. What do you think about that?"


AHAHAHAHA - ahem.


So I started with "I sincerely hope not," then babbled some about how Harper is opposed to me on a lot of social issues, and how I hope the majority of Canadians aren't on his side.

I forgot to ask which program she works for. So if any of you are listening to CBC radio and hear someone talking about being opposed to Harper because he doesn't support the rights and freedoms of those who are feminist, female and queer, let me know? I want to know who exactly I was talking to.

I spoke to a woman at work today who bemoaned the current incarnation of the Conservative party. She always used to vote for the Tories, she said, but the last time she had to vote NDP because the Liberals don't know forwards from backwards, and the Conservatives were becoming increasingly right-wing and loony.

One of my sisters says she's probably going to spoil her ballot, but she's still going to the polls. I told her to take all her new college friends along.


The Canadian federal election is next month. October 14th. GET OUT THE VOTE.

I'm considering what to do with this space.

I've started to write here a handful of times over the last months and then changed my mind. I was irritated when I first heard that LJ was moving to a mandatory ad model, and I'm growing even more uncomfortable with the quantity and tone of those ads. I can avoid seeing the ads by using Adblock Plus (yay Firefox) but that doesn't mean they aren't there.

I still come here to read and comment, but not to post.

I've considered a paid account, but I don't really like LJ enough anymore to give them money. Sad days. So I'm rethinking LJ, and considering whether I like blogging enough to commit to doing it elsewhere.

Blogger is pretty classic, and free, and has no obnoxious mandatory advertising (though ads are permitted if I ever decide I want them - but why?). However, Blogger seems to be a landscape of soapboxes instead of a community.

Thinking.

What do I have to say?

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

I am trying to remember the poem that ends islands are connected underneath and narrowed it down to a specific anthology but still can't find it. This thing is a mammoth.

Well, at least I know the words are in there somewhere.

New news on the landlord/tenant front.

I consented to the $200 fee on the condition that there be no more surprises. The super agreed that the only other charges would be for cleaning if I neglected to clean the apartment, particularly the bathroom and kitchen.

Last night he called me and said that the charge for wall painting was actually $400. When combined with the carpet cleaning, the costs will be more than my damage deposit. They want me to "cough up the difference."

%$^&%&%*%

I called the tenancy board, and they can't help me. If the landlord and I come to an agreement about breaking my lease, it falls outside of their scope. And if the landlord breaks his agreement and proposes new terms repeatedly it still isn't in their scope.

The only reason the landlord's stance can even have a leg to stand on is because they haven't yet signed the papers with the new tenant. Until they do, I am responsible to pay rent here. And they conveniently doubled the charges as soon as I told the super that I had signed a new lease and arranged for movers. So If I fight, I'll have to pay rent in both apartments.

I am boiling here. This isn't good for me. If I can't find a way to turn this rage into useful action it's going to get toxic.

The people I asked for advice generally stated that the landlord was in the wrong but I should just let them have the damage deposit and run like hell. But I NEED them to sign the next lease. I can't afford to pay rent two places at once. And they'll make things difficult for me if I try to sublet now.

I've caved, and hate it. On the condition that they give me something in writing by the end of today, and provide full receipts of all work done. They've agreed.

Okay, so when I called my super to give notice over a month in advance, I was informed that I was on a yearly lease and therefore would have had to give notice in February. I was technically locked in til April 30th 2009.

^%&%^&%&

True, I am an idiot and should have researched Nova Scotia rental law more completely. Really, I should have. I am of middling to fair intelligence and I like to read, so I have no excuse.

But! My super informed me that the landlord would be willing to let me out of my lease early if I found an acceptable tenant to take my place. If I didn't, I would have to keep paying rent here on this three bedroom apartment. I would be responsible for all the legwork and the replacement tenant would have to be acceptable to the landlord. But if I found a new tenant I could be set free.

I advertised. I set up viewings. I collected applications and forwarded them appropriately. Then the landlord left town for a week and the super was locked out of the rental office so he couldn't process the applications or credit checks until the landlord came back.

^%&%^&%&

Gee, I wonder why I want to leave?

Yesterday the super told me that the application was acceptable and so I had the clear to move. And by the way, they intended to take the cost for the carpet cleaning and the wall painting out of my damage deposit.

HAH.

I have to pay for the carpet cleaning; it's in my lease that it has to be done when I leave and I've budgeted for that with former roomies. But the walls are not my responsibility. And this time I've checked the tenancy act and I know my rights.

But I'm breaking my lease, so they think they can do whatever. You've been a naughty tenant. Pay up. They're holding me ransom. If I refuse to consent, they might change their mind about the application and I'd be stuck for the rent here AND in the new place I'm moving into this week.

I suppose I can afford to let them do this. But it's $80 for the carpets and $200 for the walls, and those funds were destined for other, greater things. The total damage deposit on this place is $450 and I don't expect to see a penny of it.

So I've been having a stressful month. My eczema is flaring, I've got mutant acne and vagrant headaches, and I want to set the sky on fire. I have a week to finish packing and get the hell out. Obviously, the best thing for me to do right now is get dressed and go out dancing.

Right.

I turned on the television to catch some Return of the Jedi and was startled to see Meatloaf and Tiffany singing about telephones.

There is rock. There is rocking out in a garage. There is an inappropriately enthusiastic song about a phone plan.

And now I have "I Think We're Alone Now" in my head on repeat. I think I have it on cassette somewhere.

I have now turned off the television. I would tolerate many things for Ewoks, but not that.

I am looking for a new apartment.

My current place is becoming gradually less attractive. And my roommate has declared her intent to depart, so I either have to find new ones stat or find a new place - I elected to relocate. So I am scouring Halifax for appropriate bachelors and one bedrooms.

But.

I am not having luck. I am finding mostly summer sublets, from students who are going home to their folks but are coming back to school in September. I am finding a lot of insanely expensive places, and more than a few ramshackle nightmares. I need a place near transit as well, preferably on the peninsula so I have the option of walking. Though Dartmouth near the terminal would be doable, I suppose.

I found a great place that happened to be in a basement, and just as I was almost talking myself into believing that was not such a big deal I discovered that heat was not included in the rent. In a basement, this is a big deal. Or at least it will be in the winter.

The landlord never showed at the place I was going to see yesterday. I met a couple standing at the door who had an appointment to meet the same person at the same time, but when she checked her planner they realized they were supposed to meet her at a different building a block down the street. She wasn't there either. I decided fifteen minutes of standing in the rain was enough already and left. While wondering whether it was worth tracking her down to reschedule or not - the place was right next to a bus stop, was ridiculously affordable, and had bay windows and hardwood floors - I happened to get in touch with someone on an online forum I frequent who used to live in that building. Marvelous coincidence! Apparently, the place had a fierce bedbug problem that the owners wouldn't deal with. Also the windows wouldn't close properly and the owners didn't fix that either, even after a break-in. I am so not going back there.

So. I am still searching. And asking friends to keep eyes and ears open for possibilities. And checking with various people to see if they find their landlords particularly awesome and if so are there any vacancies. The process feels like personal ads.

Meanwhile, my mother is being insistent about school. I must go back! she says. I must graduate before I am 30 years old! Oh, argh. I'm not half dead yet, 30 is not that old. She thinks I should go up to Yellowknife and LIVE WITH HER and take social work at the college and keep her company. Never mind that I'm not interested in social work, or that I can't take another Northern winter without ten thousand blankets, a sunlamp, and some antidepressants. I'd sleep all the time and gain twenty-five pounds from lack of activity and stress-eating, and in the summer I'd be all bumps and bruises from mosquitoes who think I taste like dessert.

Her other suggestion is that I move back to Calgary. When I left there, there were no jobs. Now there are lots of jobs but zero housing. This feels familiar.

I'm not going to stay with my current employer forever. But I like too many things about my life now to uproot on a whim. I was able to do that in Guelph because I had no connections there other than family, and they're still my family even when I live far away. I'm not desperate any more. My frustrations are minor, and I'm working on them. I'm not depressed (the winter blues are receding swiftly) and I'm not giving up.

When I leave here, it will be with a plan. I will have something waiting for me where I go - be that a job, enrollment in school, or some other opportunity I couldn't turn down. And I'm not going to go to a university without some purpose. The piece of paper isn't useful, but it isn't enough to motivate me by itself, and I know that. I know me. I refuse to spend that much of my time and money on something that doesn't excite me. So I'm investigating what does.

I'm looking at interdisciplinary degrees right now. Like Canadian studies, women's studies, cultural studies, and so forth. Also at programs classified as general studies, liberal arts, and communications. I like the intersection of various perspectives and disciplines.

I'm also looking at distance education options. I enjoy some aspects of class discussion, but I don't mind working independently and I like the idea of not being tied to a location. For example, University of Manitoba appears to have an excellent distance program and has ridiculously affordable tuition, which is fortunate as I don't want to live in Winnipeg.

Since I still don't know what I want long term, I'm thinking of enrolling in a single distance course to keep my hand in meantime. Who knows, I could forget how to write an essay if I'm not careful. University of Guelph has a couple that interest me this summer, including children's literature and contemporary Canadian issues.

Going to bed now. To dream of leggy things and course calendars.

Hello Internet.

I have been avoiding LJ. I'm not sure why.

And what finally brought me out of hiding?

A meme.

I have no mad photoshop skills, just MS Paint and a dream. But I present my imaginary album cover to you anyway. So there.

Original image gleaned from flickr user Madame Fastras under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike license. Remixed work is therefore released under the same license. Do as you will.

My tooth had been bothering me a little while, and I wasn't sure what was up, but had resolved to get to the dentist real soon. Soon-ish. It wasn't that bad, just a twinge if I drank cold water or bit down on something hard, and I was overdue for checkup and cleaning so I thought I'd get that all done at once as soon as my schedule slowed down.

And then I was brushing my teeth and part of my tooth fell out of my mouth. This was Monday morning last week.

I'm not entirely sure when it broke. I am incredibly, stupidly unaware of my own body at times. It surprises me more often than I'd like.

Managed a dentist appointment for noon on Wednesday, and was informed that it was just a wisdom tooth. Those were supposed to go eventually anyway, I've known that for a couple years now. So we extracted what was left, and I went home and had a nap and then went back to work after the freezing wore off. Well, I felt fine, and I had stuff to do.

There were no prescription meds and I stopped taking ibuprofen after a couple days. As of this weekend, I'm no longer either hurting or uncomfortable (pain and discomfort are different). I have been properly laughed at by friends and boggled at by co-workers, mostly for the going back to work. Also punned at by my mother, which was fantastic.

Am still a bit stunned, though. How did I break a tooth and not notice?

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

My mom asked me to recommend something for her book club, and I told her to look up The New Moon's Arms by Nalo Hopkinson. I'd just picked it up at the library and read the back to her. It looked interesting. I said that I hadn't read it myself yet, but she brushed off my hesitation and ordered them from Chapters.

She got the books in the mail today. "Rebecca, this is science fiction! I mean, fantasy. You gave me fantasy!"

Well, kind of. This is sort of Caribbean magic realism, if there is such a thing.

I pointed out that her book club also read 100 Years of Solitude which is way weirder. She found that reassuring. They also read something by Shani Mootoo, Cereus Blooms at Night, I think. I've read all of them, and this one is far less disturbing than the other two. I honestly believe that they can handle this book.

Of course, I've read it now. And I love it, and Nalo Hopkinson is still one of my favorite writers. However, I have not yet informed my mother that several of the characters are queer. This is something that she would consider worthy of a warning.

Hm. I don't think I will. We'll see what happens.

The writer's voice is sympathetic but the narrator's voice is not. And I am in awe that I can say that and it makes sense. A story skillfully crafted.

So. Several more cousins have decided to get married, and so far I am invited to two (or three?) weddings this year alone. And several other cousins will reproduce in the near future. There are three more babes-in-progress already.

And that's just my family. Several friends have recently had adorable podlings as well, and I'm expecting another flurry of marriages in the near future.

This prompted the following conversation of sorts among my component bits.

BRAIN: So, still not wanting to have kiddies. That all right with you lot?

OVARIES: Fine by us. As long as we can continue to practice.

BRAIN: Oh, all right. If you must. Take it easy, will you?

UTERUS: *cackles*

BRAIN: Oh, bloody hell.

In conclusion, I love being the book auntie. I'll go back to Ontario for one of the weddings and hug all the little ones and bestow volumes of wisdom on them, and maybe knit something for the new additions. Still no babies for me, thank you.

Hm. My mom always said I'd grow out of this, but it's been about a decade. I think it's about time for her to focus her dynastic hopes on one of my sibs, as I am clearly not going to provide.

I've been playing with a minimalist text editor called JDarkRoom instead of going to bed like a good girl.

Green text on black full screen background. Courier monospace. All formatting tools hidden so as to reduce distraction and the temptation to shuffle deck chairs on the Titanic.

I am infatuated. But it's time to pack up what I've been working on and go to sleep.

On the bright side, I finally started sketching the boundaries of "Conversations with Fish." Until now it was an empty space I wrote around instead of through. I want to see where this goes.

I started knitting again, right around New Years. I promised my little sister a pink striped scarf about three years ago when we bought the yarn. There have been multiple attempts and much frogging over the years, but I finally have it going the way I want. So far, I have over a meter of alternating light and dark pink stripes in random widths, about ten inches wide. She and I have been negotiating lengths, and have settled on ten to twelve feet. It's going to be a Dr.Who scarf, only girlier. She's already been warned not to end up like Isadora Duncan.

It's an endurance scarf. The amount of knitting I'm doing might as well be for a sweater, only with less finishing and fiddly work at the end. I haven't been working consistently on it, but I think I might finish sometime in February.

I think I want to make one of these insanely long scarves for myself eventually. But not acrylic, and not pink. More colours, mostly blue and brown. Maybe next year. I have to finish this monster first, and then I need to take a break with a few projects that finish quickly.

Next thing I make will be different. Not garter stitch. Smaller but more complex. Maybe a hat? I should learn to knit in the round eventually. I've been looking at mosaic patterns and double pointeds with speculation and apprehension. If I'm not careful, the socks will get me. Once you knit socks, you're stuck.

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

I got promoted.

I'm now a Quality Specialist. I assess the work of the customer service reps.

Once I get the hang of the process the already have in place, I can modify it or even overhaul the thing entirely if I can make a good argument. I get to own this. Cool.

I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. I'm a supervisor. How'd that happen?

Also, my workplace is linked into Microsoft's online education thingy. I can't remember what it's called. But I'm going to take advantage of it in my off hours. Hey, free education is good.

And as for not-free education, I've been getting restless lately and thinking about going back to school. And not in an "I should do that eventually" way. More like an "it's about damn time" way. University of Manitoba is relatively inexpensive - the schools in Nova Scotia cost almost twice as much. And the entire degree can be completed via distance ed, which is good because I'm not moving to Winnipeg.

The promotion has eased the restlessness some, or at least distracted me from it. But it's still there. I have some letters to write to various admissions departments.

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

I want to bake. I'm almost out of flour.

It's not that cold outside.

Maybe later.

In a conference panel of sorts, I heard Nalo Hopkinson talk about how different genres of fiction have different reading protocols. The example she used was "she flew across the room," which is means one thing in the popular idiom but perhaps something else in a science fiction or fantasy context.

Hey, Dingsi? I just read a sentence you wrote in "Feather" and experienced some sort of protocol malfunction.

He changes into a woollen, wide pair of trousers and his favourite grey sweater...

And I spent a few moments mulling over why he would do that before it clicked and I realized that he didn't become the clothing, he just put it on.

That is all.

It's mad snowing right now, with thunder and lightning as well. But instead of searching for decent boots (I still don't have good ones) I'm looking at umbrella reviews online.

I think I might want this one because it's got nice lines, comes with an unconditional lifetime guarantee, and just looks well designed. Also come with a one-time-use "loss protection card" that you can use to get a replacement umbrella for half-price if you mislay yours. Which might help ease any potential anxiety about purchasing one.

I don't really want to spend a hundred dollars on an umbrella, but if it's really the last umbrella I'll ever have to buy, it's probably worth it. And it feels less frivolous than an ipod, though not as shiny. Maybe I'll ask for this for Christmas instead of socks.

Probably not.

I always request socks for Christmas. They're relatively inexpensive, they post well, and I can never have too many pairs. They don't listen if I tell them not to get me anything at all, so I might as well ask for something I know I want. I told my sister to look for mens knee socks in argyle, because I like argyle socks and I have largish feet. Well, no, just slighly larger than girl-average. I'm telling the other sister to look for striped socks, and asked my mother to send thick warm boot socks.

My mother offered to buy me a guitar. I am a little overwhelmed, but also confused. I hardly play the instrument I already have, you want to get me another one? Stick to socks, please. Unlike my flute, they never feel neglected. My socks don't glare balefully at me and ask why they aren't being worn. The flute is suitably shrill.

I should practice tomorrow afternoon while my roommate is at work. I wonder if the new neighbours would mind. Or I should write. I should do laundry and write and practice flute and bake and knit my sister's scarf and make lists of what I want to get people for xmas this year.

Maybe they'd like socks?

I'm going to try and get a book for each child in the extended family again. I'm going to try a couple fair-trade chocolate bars and see if I can find a good one to include as stuffers. Cocoa Camino looks promising, but only taste will tell. I'm going to go to the farmers market every other weekend and keep choosing odd-coloured produce. I'm going to try to keep walking regularly even though it's incredibly horrible out right now, it won't last and we'll have bearable weather in a day or three.

Luck.

Sometimes I talk to strangers.

A few days ago (last week?) I took the bus home from work and sat across from a kid in his late teens who was frowning over some photocopied papers. I could see the words "NDP Caucus" at the top of one page, and there were pictures of adults that somehow captured the same genial stiffness of school portraits. He did not notice me looking at the papers, he was studying intently himself.

A few blocks before my stop I finally said, "Sorry to interrupt, but are you studying to be a page?"

"Yes, tomorrow's my first day."

And then we chatted for a few minutes about what it's like to be a legislative page, how it's hard at first to memorize all the names/faces/ridings of every MLA, it's alternately boring and fascinating, and everything is going to be fine. Then I wished him well and hopped off the bus.

I wonder how he's doing?

(I was a page in the Yukon Legislature just over ten years ago.)

So I just had the most entertaining wrong number experience of my life. And I have to reconstruct it now before I forget.

Either the universe decided I was due for a gift, or one of my friends is having me on.

Seriously.

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

(phone rings)

ME: Hello?

GUY: Hi. I was ordered to call.

ME: What?

GUY: Um, I was ordered to call?

ME: By who? Who are trying to call?

GUY: I think I have the wrong number.

ME: Yeah, probably. Who are you, and who are you calling?

GUY: I was ordered to call by the female who owns me. I was ordered to explain, but I can't explain because I'm not sure if you have a good sense of humour.

ME: ... I think I have an excellent sense of humour, though there are those who disagree.

GUY: I really can't explain if you don't have a good sense of humour. I think I dialed the wrong number.

ME: Okay then. Why don't I let you go try this again. You have a lovely evening.

(click)

ME: Well, that was odd.

(phone rings)

ME: WTF?

ME: Hello?

GUY: Oh, no.

ME: Hi. So, who is this?

GUY: I was ordered to call by the mistress who owns me. I'm her slave.

ME: Okay. What number did you dial?

GUY: (SPEAKS MY PHONE NUMBER HERE)

ME: That's me. And I really wasn't expecting this call. Are you going to explain?

GUY: Well, I was ordered to explain, but I can't because I don't know if you have a sense of humour.

ME: Right. Okay. Well, believe me, I do, and also a sense of curiosity.

GUY: You're laughing right now, aren't you?

ME: Oh, gods, yes.

GUY: I'm sorry.

ME: Well, you have a good night.

GUY: Thank you, Mistress. Good night.

(click)

ME: Mistress? WTF?

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

So. Verdict, anyone? Opinions? Amusing or insightful thoughts? I'm having trouble here.

I've already had two people offer to take him off my hands if he calls back. I would be immensely grateful if either he or his Mistress call back with an explanation before I explode from misdirected curiosity.

I literally fell down laughing after the second call.

There was no creep factor at work that I could tell, just a very confused and embarrassed man who I'm sure someone will be speaking sternly to later this evening. This is so much better than the heavy breathing idiots.

I'm trying not to think too hard about it, lest I hurt myself laughing again.

You have a lovely evening too.

Happy Vicarious Turkey Day.

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

So on Saturday I went to this concert at a church. And there were these two loud idiots who talked behind me all through the opening acts. I turned around and asked them if they were done and they laughed and said yes and they were such lying bastards.

So. Went to this concert and the first opening act was annoying and soporific, and the second was technically skilled but uninspiring, and then there was Owen Pallett, aka Final Fantasy, who just made my evening. There were other good bits, but they were metaphorical gravy.

Buddy plays the violin and piano and a sampler with foot pedals. So there's this skinny guy playing along with himself and singing and occasionally screaming into his instrument, and we're in a church with awesome acoustics, and even the idiots behind me couldn't ruin it.

I don't know why anyone would pay for tickets to just sit there jawing, seriously.

Some well-meaning soul recorded the entire concert and uploaded it onto youtube (see first track here) and the a/v quality is bearable though it does not compare to the live experience. But you knew that.

There's also a couple music videos with a much more polished sound, also pretty.

Pallett writes the string arrangements for the Arcade Fire, and apparently has does some remix work that I have to look for later.

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

This cake is ridiculously easy, and tastes good too. MY mom used to make one a lot like it that from the Women of Unifarm fundraiser cookbook that he's had for twenty-something years. She's no longer in the same area code as the book, so when I told her I'd found the recipe she demanded a link.

I also sent her a bunch of links to info about reproductive justice after we talked about what she's been teaching in her classes. Apparently they've been talking about health and ethics and current events, and for ome reason I decided to start talking like I know things.

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

I am looking for a new roommate for the seventeen thousandth time. Newest roomie has decided to relocate after all, and he will be gone sometime next month. Not a moment too soon. On Tuesday I was scheduled off but went in to work anyway or a couple hours of overtime, and came home to something I would rather not have seen. Nekkid roommate surprise, argh.

Apparently he'd just got home from class, stripped, and fell onto his bed, leaving his clothes strewn in the hall and his bedroom door wide open. And then I walked in and scared him half to death. Startled me too, I can tell you. I was kicking my shoes off and wondering why there were someone else's pants in my way, so by the time I looked up he'd grabbed something to be mostly covered. And he's been all embarrassed giggles and apologies ever since.

Give me patience. And a new roommate, quickly. He's on my balcony at the moment, smoking up and dancing to "Back in the U.S.S.R." At least it's not "Stairway to Heaven" today.

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

I've caved and signed up for last.fm, username insugar. I'm gradually finding people I know there so I can eavesdrop on their radio stations. If you have a membership, add me?

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

I bought purple vegetables at the farmers market a couple weeks ago. Potatoes, carrots, and cabbage, all purple, but no beets allowed. I am no longer working Saturdays for the rest of the year, so I can do things like that again. I'm going again this weekend with a woman from work.

I mostly enjoy my coworkers. There's this one fellow who I swear is looking for my approval and I can't figure out why. And I haven't been incredible or anything to impress him, I've just been weird. I'm good at weird, it fits. He's young and super dense and I keep laughing at him but he hasn't withdrawn in shame yet. I am still entertained.

My supervisor reads Terry Pratchett and likes Margaret Cho. We talk about books a lot when I should be working. I don't want her job, I want the position on the Quality/Training team that's being posted shortly. Or, y'know, a job somewhere else. It would be easier to give up and quit if I didn't like people.

And the classy broad I used to sit next to, who distracted me all day with her awesomeness, is probably moving to Toronto in six weeks. I am being encouraging and stuff, but somewhat sad that I'll have to make new plans for the when the zombie apocalypse comes.

Speaking of Toronto and the undead, don't you think that the CN tower looks like an immense skeletal finger flipping off the sky?

So post-tropical storm Noel is paying a visit tonight. I got delightfully drenched on my walk home, and the winds are getting fierce.

We have: candles, matches, fire extinguisher, bread, crackers, cheese, tuna, peanut butter, honey, chocolate chips, batteries, flashlight, water, tea, scrabble, playing cards, blankets.

We do not have: a battery-operated radio, a turkey, a phone that will work if the power fails. Do not ask about the turkey. I do not even know.

We'll see what happens.

POST-STORM EDIT: Power flickered a lot but no outage here, though not all the rest of the area is as lucky. Branches down in the parking lot but no visible damage to cars or buildings from here, will go wandering later. I stayed awake til 3am watching the storm.

POST-EDIT EDIT: I feel very fortunate.

I am trying to plan Halloween festivities.

I have been invited to a rock star party on the 27th and am trying to plot an appropriate costume. I don't know if Alanis Morisette counts as a rock star? Cher is taken, I think Ann Wilson only works if I get someone to come along as Nancy Wilson (but comment and prove me wrong if you like), and I don't wanna be in Aerosmith. I have long dark hair and don't wanna wear a wig, suggestions are welcome.

On the 25th I'm going to the Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Bus Stop on Gottingen. With toast. Huzzah!

Also, I am trying to arrange a movie night at my place. We are going to watch a Bruce Campbell flick or two and mock relentlessly. I will make pizza and brownies. Date not finalized yet, I am working on it, but likely a weekend evening.

If you live in the area and want to come to any of these, let me know?

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

( TMI underpants )

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

I find myself leaning towards cyberpunk fiction lately. Charlie Stross, Cory Doctorow. Wanting to reread some William Gibson, and have put Neal Stephenson on hold at the library.

Steampunk is next.

This afternoon the city and the union reached an agreement and managed to avert a transit strike that was expected to start October first.

I will be able to bus to work tomorrow. YES.

To borrow a phrase from Maureen Johnson:

Who wants to go ON A WONDERFUL DATE!?

C'mon. I dare you.

Dates with me tend to the non-romantic, and may or may not include tea, comic books, reptiles, saladin pirates, zombie movies and/or flea markets. You have been warned. Doesn't it sound like fun?

Seriously, who else wants to go get seasick at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic?