Bible Fight!

I like that Mary can whoop some ass while carrying the baby Jesus.

The controls are a little tricky to work with, but the fact that I can play Eve vs. Satan motivates me...

The Joy of Tech

To While Away the Livelong Night

Or, if you can't sleep, here's some distractions (you'll want to mute the sound):

Grow!

Grow RPG version!

I Should Be Working Out, But...

...time for bed, chiklits.

Idol

I was... genuinely surprised.

Paycheck

Received my paycheck today for the three days of work I did at the investment firm last week.

It means I can afford to pay my minimum credit card payments this month, but even with my student loans deferred, I'm still paying for all of my groceries with credit cards.

However, now that I've done some work in Ohio, I finally went ahead and applied for Ohio unemployment. I have no idea of my claim will be approved (I put this off because I figured since I quit my last position, I wouldn't be eligible - it appears that illness/injury and "moving" are among the choices I have for quitting, though. So there may be hope yet).

If I can qualify for unemployment I might be able to stop running up this credit card bill.

The bill is staggering at this point. Absolutely staggering.

The Original Slash Fiction Couple

Ah, fans.

Moderating Trolls

I've seen Cory's post about comments moderation in several other places, but I wanted to post a link to it here because Fear of Trolls is a subject that's come up a *lot* among women bloggers (and has been one of the most-attended panels at the Blogher conference, I've heard). Cory's primary "troll whisperer" example in this article is, of course, Teresa Nielsen Hayden.

The last time I posted about comments moderation, I brought up the great example of TNH, as well. I even brought up TNH during The Great "Kameron Hurley is a Straw Feminist" Debate of `05.

There are a lot of great places for feminist discussion. Pandagon does pretty well, but I recently spent a big chunk of time reading a whole thread over at Twisty's place, and I was really impressed. You can engage in a radical lesbian feminist discussion there without being radical, female, or lesbian.

It's a safe space for productive discussion. For everyone. You just need to actively *add* to the discussion. If you're just there to be an asshat, you're not going to see your asshatted comment posted. Twisty's even got some guidelines. From what I've seen, if she doesn't like what you have to say, she'll just delete your post. Or make fun of you. Or make fun of you and then delete your post.

Be civil or go home.

That's been my approach to comment moderation since I started this blog. Be civil or go home. If you're not interested in having a productive discussion, go play somewhere else. I've had some hate mail and a number of inappropriate comments, but I just deleted it all. I'm lucky in that traffic is low enough that I don't have to employ the use of spam filters yet, but those help too, particularly the ones you can use to filter posts that contain certain words.

One of the blogs that, I think, failed to community build properly was Feministing. I remember spending some time trying to comment there, and finding the comments section filled with self-proclaimed "Men's Rights Activists" who, like many MRAs, used there personal grievances against their wives and girlfriends as excuses to rail against feminists in general and take over feminist discussions. I learned pretty quickly that Feministing wasn't somewhere you'd go for discussion, just news (it's one of those sites that could even subsist just fine *without* comments).

You don't have to engage with every poster. You don't have to air the flighty, non-relevant, asshatted ramblings of every poster. I think that a lot of self-described "liberals" have a lot of problems with the idea of deleting comments cause they see it as "censorship." But think of it this way: I wouldn't tolerate somebody calling me a dick-sucking straw feminist in "real life," so why would I put up with it online? I'm didn't create this space so I could be somebody else's doormat.

Moderation is an exercise in community building. You figure out what kind of community you want, and you encourage it.

For women who are still terrified at the idea of hate mail and sexual harassment in their threads, well, just know this: it's going to happen. It happens because you having a voice threatens some people, and the best way to kow-tow is to shut up again.

I don't know about you, but I'm sick of kow-towing to asshats.

So blog away. Just remember it's your space, not theirs. You're not here to be "nice." You're here to be heard.

Does Diabetes Hurt?

Ian asked me yesterday if diabetes hurts.

The short answer to that is: if you don't monitor it like an SOB, yeah, it hurts, and it eventually breaks you down and kills you. As does life. So.

When my sugar runs high (above 180 or 200) for a few hours in a day, I have a lot of problems with my feet. They start to throb, and then I get these shooting pains sometimes that go up my legs, usually when I'm trying to get to sleep at night. It means I have trouble sleeping. And I get sugar-high headaches, which are fucking annoying.

There are other symptoms of malaise as well - muzzy thinking, bitchiness, tiredness, trouble seeing - but I suppose these aren't actual *pain.* When my sugar's low, I start to shake and if I'm real low my vision starts to blacken. But, again, these aren't actually *painful* things.

The shots hurt about a third of the time. Sometimes there's burning when the insulin on the syringe goes into your skin. Sometimes you hit a blood vessel. Mostly, though, you're injecting into fat, and if you do it firm and fast, it doesn't hurt much. If, like me, you have to reuse needles, it probably hurts more than it should, and generally toward the end of the day when you're taking your third shot with the same syringe, which is now duller than it was during the first shot in the morning.

And, you know, I have some reservations about saying "if you take care of it, diabetes isn't so bad," because you know, you can do everything "right" and still have fucking bad days. There's nothing more frustrating than doing everything right and hitting 226 and feeling like shit (for physical *and* psychological reasons; ie guilt). There can be stress, unexpected sugar syrup in a latte that was supposed to have sugar-free, a haggerd schedule with no room for exercise... in other words, Life can come between you and The Numbers.

Which is kind of ironic, if you think about it.

By the Numbers

Numbers for the last four days:

92
67
65

106
65
102

93
108
113

98
94
90

For the record, getting these numbers back on track has been a fucking bitch.

I've been forcing myself to get up before 9am (which I should have been doing anyway), which helps fight off the higher morning numbers - I take my meal insulin before the morning glucose rush.

It looks like what was giving me those weird nighttime spikes that I had to adjust at 2am was probably all those damned cinnamon almonds and butter toffee peanuts I was eating. I cut those out, and cut out the extra cheese I was eating too, mainly cause of the calorie issue as opposed to the sugar issue, and things straightened up.

However, it means eating pretty fucking strictly, even for me. I still have my one whole wheat pancake on Sat and Sun mornings, but that's pretty much it. Luckily, berries are in season, so my food routine is something like this:

Breakfast:

2 egg vegetarian omelette w/salsa
2 pieces turkey bacon

Lunch:

Mixed stirfry of chicken/beef, carrots, onions, peas, tomato, cilantro, garlic and parmesan cheese
A cup of mixed berries

Dinner:

tomato soup
cheese quesedilla (I found a 9 carb tortilla!)
salad or green vegetable (I like brussel sprouts)
Mixed berries if still hungry

(This isn't a strict thing - I'll mix up dinner and lunch or make a tostada or "nachos" by cutting up and toasting the low carb tortilla, but I try to use these same basic ingrediants for my meals: vegetables, meats, low carb tortillas, cheese, vegtable soup etc)

And, of course, regular exercise; bike riding or some time on the elliptical and my morning weights.

Yeah, they're great fucking numbers, but you can't keep this up all the time. It's mainly something I can do during the weekdays because I've got a routine, but during vacations, traveling of any sort, big upsets, it's just not all that feasible. Still, this is what I'd like to see the vast majority of the time, mainly because it means my feet never bother me at night, I have lots more energy, and I just all around feel fantastic.

Fucking pain in the ass, tho.

That About Sums Up Eighth Grade For Me

Farming the Third World

If I didn't know just how much armed bands of revolutionaries really did affect crop yields, I might have had some qualms about this one.

As it is: diversify, diversify, diversify. And don't invest too much in peanuts.

Hypo.... what?

I spent a couple of hours at Walmart today scouring the shelves for hypoallergenic products. Before I moved out here to Dayton I'd never concerned myself with this shit before. Who were all of these people out there with "sensitive" skin? Did this mean the creams were less abrasive? Were there no crushed walnuts in these particular brands of face wash?

What I came to learn, living in a house with someone who is, well, allergic to everything, is that "hypoallergenic" and "made for sensitive skin" and "fragrance free" are often the labels that distinguish between "safe to use in the house" and "instant death."

Ian's allergic to a number of household chemicals; nobody's entirely sure of which ones, but if we stick to hypoallergenic, fragrance-free, "for sensitive skin" he doesn't have to be taken into the emergency room.

Steph and Ian have been together for 8 years, and I'd always known he was allergic to perfumes, scented candles, and all Lysol products, but until I moved in here, I wasn't aware of just how violent that reaction was, and how many things could trigger it.

We had a couple of near-misses with my spray-on deodorant and at least one roll on substitute that turned out to be worse and made him tear up and start hacking (I switched to Dove unscented anti-persperant deodorant "for sensitive skin," and that one seems to be a keeper), but the day I nearly killed him was when I was using my face wash and he walked into the bathroom after me and started hacking.

What I've realized since that episode is that instead of replacing my empty bottle of face wash with the same kind I'd had before, I'd accidentally picked up the same brand in a different bottle, but instead of saying "sensitive skin" it said "blemish control." I spent several days trying to figure out why he'd had a sudden reaction to this facewash I'd had for a month, and then realized I must have made a stupid error when picking up the replacement.

While going through products to verify that it was, indeed, the face wash, he ended up huffing too much of the stuff and spent an hour prone on the couch while his lungs seized. He eventually had to use an epi-pen so he could breathe.

This is scary fucking shit, to be poisoned by common household products, and it's been a struggle to find products that work that don't kill him.

I finally had to go in today, a month or so after that reaction, to get hair products because I realized that some of that "you need to dress more professionally" thing during one of my interviews had to do with the fact that since I was no longer using product on my hair, I really looked like dirt.

I've found that Dove and Aveeno actually make the most "fragrance free" and "for sensitive skin" products. That's pretty much all we use around the house. Ian uses some salon products as well, Paul Mitchell, I think, which also manage to wash and style without the threat of sudden death.

The Godfather

When men were men! And women were women! With varying degrees of success.

I started reading The Godfather so I could take a look at the way Mario Puzo had rolled out the plot. The next book I'm working on is a sprawling family saga of revenge, rebellion, genocide, and female guerrilla fighters, and though reading Gone With the Wind has been entertaining, the narrative is a sprawling mess.

Puzo's book is much stronger, and I feel he has a far better handle on his characters and how the book's chapters were going to be set up than Mitchell did with hers.

Besides, The Godfather is the fucking premier bloody generational saga.

The movie's plot stuck pretty closely to what's in the book - the book's got more characters, much more background on each of the supporting characters, and more history of the Corleone family. About what you'd expect.

What interested me were a couple of things he did with the narrative; not just the rolling distant flashbacks, but the way he'd say "this happened" at the end of a chapter (Sonny Corleone's body is revealed) and then spend the *next* chapter telling you *how* it happened.

I used to snap at a writer friend of mine who'd set up his fiction and nonfiction this way: here's what happened. Here's how it happened. He used the structure so much that I'd find myself skipping over the explanation of what happened in order to go to the next chronological event - I never felt that the explanation of how something happened added anything to the action itself.

I'm still not sure how Puzo makes this work. In the case of Sonny's death, it's vital that we know *how* this event occurred because it sets up Michael's murder of his brother in law at the end - we need to understand the events that are set into motion by this event.

By placing the scene with the undertaker *before* the death of Sonny, it means we're not yawning through that whole background chapter about the undertaker already *knowing* why the Godfather has called on his services. It's a pacing/suspense issue.

As far as the women in this story, well, tackling that bit would be like trying to tackle the racism and stereotypes, and well... you sort of have to swallow it wholesale if you're going to read this. Both of the women who's heads we get into have only ever been with Corleone men, and were so affected by the experience that they were either *never* with anyone else or only with somebody else after the death of the one they wanted. These are strong women, and pretty well fleshed out (these aren't cardboard people) but this story isn't about them. It's about their husbands. Just in case you were hoping for something suprising.

In any case, I liked the traditional "tragedy" set-up where the story begins with a wedding and ends with a funeral. There was a nice open and close with that. I haven't stolen that yet.

I've gone so far as to wonder if I'll literally map out the plot of my next book by taking a chapter-by-chapter plot from something like The Godfather that's well-plotted. It might help with some of my plot flailing midway and my sudden, delirious rush to the end once I figure out what the hell I'm doing.

It's time to make up a better writing guidebook, cause what I got ain't cutting it.

Transgender America

Newsweek's report on transgenderism in America.

Words of Wisdom

"There is nothing on the internet as interesting as the book you are supposed to be writing. Get back to work." - David Lubar

(via Shaken & Stirred)

New Diggs & Haircut

I realize I haven't posted any pics of my new diggs yet.

Here's my new room configuration and workspace:

The map to the left of the desk is my GW world map. Sometimes actual WORK even gets done here. I even have line edits just SITTING on my desk WAITING to get input.

Don't knock the stuffed rabbit, man. It is a vital part of my PROCESS. Actually, it makes a really good pillow.

Behold, TESSA: the ferocious hell beast who REALLY rules this household. Just look at that bold, disapproving stare.

And.... haircut.

NOW I'm ready for Wiscon.

"But Really, They Did it For Free"

What I did this weekend....

Attempted to re-paste, re-sand, prime and paint this with my roomies:


Up into the attic....


From here it doesn't look so bad!!


Wait a minute. There's something odd about that ceiling...


What the hell...?


OMG.



OMGWTFBBQ FOR SERIOUS

(for the record, it looks about 10X worse in real life - getting the shading to show up in the pics was tough)

But really, it's almost like they did it for free....

Never Be Afraid to Say What You Feel

In Which The Protagonist Gets a Bad Haircut

Well, at least it's shorter.

You know, Stephanie used to tell these little anecdotes about the difference between living in Dayton and the PNW, and I used to think they were terribly funny.

Her oft-repeated story is one in which she was sitting around with the other receptionists at her workplace and she used the word "egregious" in regular conversation.

"Egri... what?" one of them asked.

"Why do you use all of these big words?" they asked her after a few months. "Are you trying to sound smarter than us?"

They have since learned that they can ask Stephanie how to spell things like "side effects." She was also able to explain that "anxiety" isn't spelled with an "e."

I thought these were terribly funny stories.

At the salon today the stylist - a young 20-something woman - rang me up, and I asked her if she had any hypoallergenic styling products, since Ian is allergic to, well, everything.

"Hypo... what?" she asked.

I am officially in Dayton.