Deviant Dispatches

Friday night, I made my first protest sign since before the Iraq war began. When I participated in that protest, Congress had already decided to go to war, so I was registering my dissent more than anything else. I knew my protesting wasn't likely to make a difference in the outcome. This time, I have more hope. I keep thinking that Gov. Walker's got to get it at some point - but then I remember how stubborn he is being and it kills me a little. That didn't stop us from showing up in Santa Fe on Saturday. There were protests in every state capitol this weekend to show support for Wisconsin. This blog shows pictures from many of them. It takes some time to load, but the images and links are worth it, especially if you in Wisconsin are starting to get depressed about all this. Some of the signs at the protest in Santa Fe were more serious. Some were less so. (Warning: there's a photo coming up with questionable language. Protect your children / hide from your boss if you

This picture is provided to just give you some idea of how I felt half an hour ago. I felt like that dog, carefree and enjoying the blue sky and pretty scenery while someone else guards the alpacas for a moment. I had a few moments to just hang out and love this relaxing time in my life. Why, you may ask? Because I paid off my first student loan! This loan was through Sallie Mae. They are evil. Their interest rates are astoundingly high. Several people I know have had issues with their evil repayment attitude. Plus it was like pulling teeth to get this loan in the first place - everyone knows students have no credit, so why do they require them to have a cosigner? It's not their fault most of them haven't purchased a car or a house yet at age 19. For the next half hour or so, I had planned to bask in the wonder of being free from that loan. But I'm too pissed off now to do that. Why? This is why. The Wisconsin Assembly passed the bill - in an unfair, cowardly, dictatorly m

In the children's section of the store, we have a book called Zero is the Leaves on the Tree . It helps explain the concept of zero to kids. But my geek-side is starting to bug me about this. In the case of the book's title, zero is a concept, which is why the verb "to be" is singular. But if I were talking about the number itself, I would say, "There are zero leaves on the tree." Zero is a plural, despite being nothing at all. I've been having a hard time coming up with a reliable source that gives a definitive answer to this. There are several websites that talk about the history of the number - I found it interesting that the word "zero" came from the Italian word for wind ( zefiro ), which was close to the Arabic word for zero ( sifr ). The best I can tell is this: zero is a plural because you can often have a lot of it. For example, "There are zero leaves on the tree." Zero, in that sentence, refers to the lack of leaves. And th

Some favorite pictures that I've taken. Minerva the tomato plant Wedding feet Wedding faces A hole where the snow gets in (I haven't fixed it) A friend in a bar Local scenery

I have a problem. Well, I have many problems, but I have a specific one right now. I was gifted a ball of soft, royal blue mohair as a Christmas/wedding gift from my manager (he really knows how to gift). I crocheted it, along with some varigated alpaca yarn, into a mini-capelet. It's super-tiny, hence my calling it a capelet instead of a shawl. When pinned around my neck, it reaches my shoulders and no farther. That's fine by me; I like having a little cape. My problem involves another ball of mohair yarn. I've already started working with it, adding in a strand of brown acrylic for extra weight. I was hoping to make a blanket, but the mohair I got was $8 and only got me an itty bitty foot-and-a-half rug-type thing, only large enough to keep GIR warm. Plus, it kind of looks like cat vomit. I have some flat, tan, mother-of-pearly bead things I was going to attach to it afterward. But I don't want to spend a ridiculous amount of money making this blanket, and now I can&

This sunset, seen from our "porch," is from our first summer out here. There's nothing like seeing these kinds of sunsets in the mountains from your own apartment.

Being in New Mexico provides a certain amount of reverse culture shock for a Midwestern girl. By reverse, I mean that I wasn't too shocked at the high number of New Mexican restaurants, or Hispanics, or the dryness of the area. I expected all of those things. The thing I didn't expect was a lack of Midwestern food. Hear me out on this: I grew up in Wisconsin, Land of the Cheeseheads. Until I came out here, excluding a four-month stint in Chicago proper, I had never lived outside of the state. Delicious, well-made cheese was available at every gas station on I-94 (or at least cheese that was advertised as such). There was a Norwegian restaurant ten minutes from my house. I never imagined life without certain delicacies, such as cheese curds and lefse. Imagine my horror at finding out there is no lefse here. None. Zero. That was bad enough, though it was kind of expected. There isn't much of a Norwegian population here. (Though really, not even Santa Fe has lefse? What kind o

Back in the day, I was a newspaper copy editor. Grand times were had (minus the times it sucked my creativity dry). There was a plethora of reporter mistakes for me to put in order. One of the more important parts of that job was my need to think like a 12-year-old boy. Accidental double entendres ran rampant in every story imaginable. I pretty much saw it all. When my coworker and I were reading quietly and one of us suddenly burst out laughing, we always knew an awesome error had been found. I kept a running list of the worst mistakes. For example: "Finished brooms hung from a display wrack." "Mr. Jones has been grazing near Bone Lake since 1993." [His cows have been grazing, not Mr. Jones] "Wild forest berries were available to the ancient Romans in the Middle Ages." Those are some of the simpler ones, with one mistake that was easily corrected. Not every sentence was so easy as that. For example: "The raw vegetable virgin oil processing will proba

It's Led Zeppelin played bluegrass-style: Pickin' On Led Zeppelin. Pickin' On does covers of many different bands and artists. Their cover of Billie Jean is both hilarious and insightful. I love hearing a banjo instead of an electric guitar riff. But their Zeppelin covers are the greatest. My favorites are Kashmir and Babe I'm Gonna Leave You. It helps that Zeppelin is already so blues-y. But it really comes out in these covers, where vocals are often replaced by a harmonica and violins play backups. Pickin' On's arrangements are seamless and still very true to the original songs. As the album proclaims: "Whether hillbilly or head-banging, the song does indeed remain the same."

To be fair, this isn't really belated. It is Tuesday's sunset. And this is Spousal Unit, playing with Legos. Yes, that is an X-Wing attacking a knight on a horse.

Several very fun things happened at work yesterday. 1.) Creepy Bald Guy learned my name. He sets off my Perv-Dar like crazy - I make an effort to not be around him, and was very discouraged to find he knew my name. He asked to use the bathroom (always does when he comes in). "Thanks," he said as I was unlocking it. "I just went to that cafe next door and ate, and I really gotta go." Dude. Please don't tell my why you want to use the bathroom. I think I can figure it out. 2.) The Man in Black came in to use the bathroom, as he does (I'm seeing a trend). I asked how he was doing. "Good. I'm doing a show at the Blackbird [Gallery] this weekend. Acid rap. It's going to be scary." He was clearly thrilled at how scary it was going to be. 3.) Million Dollar Hobo came in again. He wore old sweats, new stink, and few teeth. He first showed up last week and asked my manager if we had change for a million-dollar bill, hence the nickname. No, sorry, w

...When you're required by pretty much anyone who believes in celebrating Valentine's Day to explain why you hate it even if you're in a relationship. Believe me, I hate this holiday. I don't hate it as much as I did when I was more cynical (although it basically just means Date Night gets moved to a different night of the week). But pre-packaged ideas of romance drive me batty. I like what I like, and there's no industry that can tell me otherwise, though they try to convince me things like this are the ideal: (I am not responsible for this picture.) Seriously, does anyone really look good in white? And whose whacked idea was it to have a random long piece of white netting dangling from a girl's head? That's why I got a blue wedding dress. That's one of many reasons I picked out (yes, picked out) a sapphire ring (just one ring, no engagement/wedding band thing). That's why, although I understand other people's enjoyment of the holiday, I don&

The CDs we listen to at the bookstore are good. Really. They feature the best songs of excellent bands from around the world, things you definitely wouldn't hear on the radio every day. But even really good music can get old if you listen to it over and over again. So, every now and then, I make a CD for the bookstore, carefully keeping out the headbanger tunes and going for a fun, somewhat eclectic mix. Here's the most recent playlist. Escoutas (Diga Diga Diga) - Carolina Chocolate Drops Donald McGillavry / O'Neill's Cavalry March - Silly Wizard Place to Be - QuinnElizabeth Closer to Fine - Indigo Girls Breakable - Ingrid Michaelson How I Lost My Heart - Shel Wonderwall - Ryan Adams Fast Car - Tracy Chapman Dreams - Fleetwood Mac Fake Empire - The National The Book of Love - The Magnetic Fields As I Went Down to the River to Pray - Alison Kraus These Days - Nico Keep the Car Running - Arcade Fire Pallin' with Al - Squirrel Nut Zippers Billie Jean - Pickin' On S

I read Paolo Bacigalupi's The Windup Girl last year, before it won the Nebula and the Hugo, and I absolutely loved it. His world building was so thorough, his characters so gritty and damaged and alive , that it read like it could be a true story, reported back from the future. Ship Breaker is his young adult debut, about a boy named Nailer who scavenges with a crew among beached oilers of ages past. His abusive father and their poverty make a hard life for him to begin with, but then he discovers a ship that still has a passenger on board... alive. Does he kill her and take the goods, or rescue her and possibly himself in one swoop? I'm looking forward to this one having a lot of similar shut-up-and-fix-the-Earth-or-we're-all-going-to-die themes. Also last year, I read Eon: Dragoneye Reborn by Alison Goodman. Great characters, a complex society, and some very non-YA themes running through it, among them the intricacies of ancient (and modern) politics. Although knowing

I've just made a hat for my niece, who is the cutest niece anyone has ever had. It matches a scarf I made her a few years ago. Hat is drunkenly modeled by GIR because (surprise!) I don't have anything remotely near the size of a toddler's head. Not even in the freezer. And there's a lot of stuff in the freezer. For those who are curious, Plymouth Yarn Dream Baby DK, 50% acrylic, 50% nylon. I hope it actually fits her.

Somewhere between Carlsbad and Roswell, October 2010.

Once upon a time, I was broke. (Yes, that's also now upon a time, but let's look at the former.) I barely managed to make it back to school at the beginning of junior year. I signed my first born over to Susie May for a loan (a.k.a. Vampires R Us) to make it back. I found a job at the lovely Picky Slave to start my fourth year working in grocery, this time a minor peon once again. I was willing to do anything to stay in college. Anything. The first few weeks made it clear that this job was going to be the seventh circle of hell (right between being stuck in a burning tomb and sinking in human excrement). It was going to be a revolting year. I knew all the produce codes as well as I knew the garbage compactor number from Star Wars: A New Hope (3263827), but still had to watch The Training Video of Torturous Doom (you know which one - it's the same everywhere you go). They made me pay $15 I didn't have for a work shirt barely one step above sackcloth and ashes. I had to w

Dear Green Bay Packers, Thank you for giving us the best wedding present ever. The day after our wedding was the day you decided not to lose for the rest of the football season. We were busy vacationing in beautiful Door County. But we still saw that glorious game. And each one after that (despite my having to work through the Bears-Packers game) leading up to The Super Bowl. Myself and Friend Adam Spousal Unit and I were very excited you were there. It was a terribly nerve-wracking game - our only complaint might be the number of pillows we threw at the TV during the game. (We were glad our favorite beer was on-hand in quantity.) Yes, this is our favorite. We're Midwesterners, after all. We want to thank you for the best wedding present we could have gotten from you: four playoff wins and the Lombardi Trophy, back in Titletown again. We love you. (For reals.) <3, Allison and Spousal Unit (And GIR, our personal mascot) Another great wedding present, from

These are two books I'm actually purchasing. Spousal Unit and I started the series in December and have been whipping through it as money permits. This is one of the last Great Works of Gaiman I have to read - he's one of my favorites. I've read so many of his works (at least, his usual fantasy novels) that I feel like I've learned all his tricks. I no longer feel surprise at what he writes (again, excluding what I'm reading now, which many people consider his crowning glory). The feeling that I know all his tricks, so to speak, doesn't change my opinion of him as a writer, though. I think he has excellent, well-executed ideas and throroughly built worlds. I adore the fables and storytelling within his stories. My favorite part of the Sandman series thusfar is at the beginning of The Doll's House, when two men wander into the desert and we hear of Nada, Dream's former companion. The conciseness of it is awe-inspiring. Knowing his style so well is actuall

I've decided not to work today. Okay, my boss decided that. Because it's cold outside. It's cold enough to freeze your beard just by breathing. My Midwest friends are saying, "Yeah, so?" My New Mexico friends are saying, "Holy crap! Frozen beard!" This may be in part because last week, we were wearing t-shirts outside. Thanks for catching up with the rest of this hemisphere, New Mexico. It's winter. Really, the wind chill this morning was -27, so I decided to stay in today. After going to the chiropractor. And the bank, and the grocery store. And to take out the recycling. Okay, so now I'm really not going outside again. Instead, I'm working on this. It's one of five bajillion quilt squares I need to make. (Actually, it's #18 out of 45.) I've been working on this damn thing since last spring. As you can imagine, quilt squares have the potential to get boring. So I tend to project-jump. If you don'

Dear Cthulhu, I'm a big fan of your work. It's most pleasant to know that someday, all the horrible things and people of this world will meet their demise at your horrific tentacles and will disturb me no longer. Even if I also succumb to your madness, it shall be with great pleasure if I can watch my enemies crumble before I go. However, I'd like to call in one teensy little favor: Will you please devour all of my maintenance records and bills at Teh Big Yellow Repair Shop of Doom and Teh Evil Credit Card Companies? See, I owe $2,000 for the work recently completed on my new-to-me car's suspension system, wheels, and transmission. And as I already have no job, no place to live, and hardly any money, I'd rather not have to pay that too. The Great New Mexican Trial of Pain and Fury is only just beginning. I know you've got a pretty bad headache right now, but if it is within your mighty doom-filled tentacles to grant me amnesty from this terrible evil, I would de

Or being lazy, whichever you prefer to call it.