June 2006

I got a call from defunct Old Part Time Job - the company with no employees is still selling things to people, and bills are piling up. My task, yesterday and today, is to package up paperwork and tidy the last few months’ financials, and to ship a few remaining orders.

One thing about being open to coming back to tidy things up - I may have a line on a temp position with a computer company, the same one who took care of the computers at Old Job, so I know the guy who’s interested in me. As long as he’s willing to work with me on my scheduling and allow me to continue looking for jobs as a therapist, I don’t see how it wouldn’t work out.

Seema is instigating things again. Last night we started a crazy round robin featuring Star Trek characters in yoga class. It’s her turn - too bad we aren’t better Photoshoppers. A young Kirk in downward dog? Doing a handstand?

First interview done. Seemed to go well - group interviews are actually easier, as there are three or four people answering questions. But, some good choices for them to debate. The competition’s gonna be stiff.

We’ll see.

In other news, my transcripts came, and I made a special trip to the post office to express mail my app for the intern number. While I was there, I discovered that my handwriting skills have atrophied to the point of near-illegibility. Hope that doesn’t delay delivery or anything.

I also cleaned up a pile of miscellaneous papers that’s been hanging around a corner of my room, sorted clean laundry, and tried in vain to find some important forms.

Also, watched about a zillion episodes of Voyager. Enough to recognize when they re-use sets. More on that later.

Me: … so I don’t really feel so hot, lately.

Him: What do you believe?

M: ?:-/

H: Do you go to church? What’s your sense of the divine? Do you feel connected to it?

M: Um… I used to go to different churches. It sort of depended on whether I found a ride, and with whom. But that was a long time ago - I gave up on that when I couldn’t find any one place with a theology that made sense to me.

H: So what about now?

M: What about it?

H: Do you believe in God? A god? A divine presence?

M: I guess you could label me ‘agnostic.’ I used to think I believed. I’m not so sure what to think, any more. I always thought that you should be able to ‘buy in’ wholeheartedly, that somewhere deep inside you should feel the solidity of your conviction, that your whole being should rest on whatever spiritual belief you find to be true. Which isn’t to say that ‘true’ and ‘factual’ are the same, like some spiritual sorts want to claim. I’m thinking in terms of personal Truth.

H: So you don’t believe in anything.

M: … It’s not that simple. If there’s anything I could say I believe in these days, it’s that nothing is that simple. Nothing important, anyway. If everything were truly a matter of believe or disbelieve, like an on/off switch, it would be easier. Wouldn’t it?

H: I was just wondering - it just seems to me that if you felt a connection to something beyond yourself, it would be easier for you. Maybe you wouldn’t be having such a hard time.

M: People. I have a few friends.

H: You have family?

M: Practically speaking, no. Technically, I have parents who don’t talk to me, and a brother who does when he remembers I exist, and a sister in law who generally has the attention span of a gnat and the follow-through of an unmedicated six year old with ADHD. I have hoards of uncles, aunts and cousins I never talk to, most of whom I’ve never met.

H: So you’re alone. Bad parents, few friends, no church.

M: This is unusual how? Most Americans are in the same boat. Studies have been done - it’s a trend. I’m a trend setter.

H: That’s not something most people would brag about.

M: Meaning is something Americans don’t teach kids to look for. I am a product of my society. I came to understand all of this pretty late in the game. Remember Maslow? I have most of the basic needs met — I’m working on the rest. It’s okay.

H: You’re okay?

M: Actually, I’m more ‘okay’ than I’ve ever been in my life. If you have time I’ll list all the ways I’ve never been okay….

… but they finally posted my degree. I had to call and beg, on behalf of my soon to consolidate student loans, that they would do it sooner than later. Hey, it’s only a month and a half since graduation, what else could I expect?

I guess bureaucracy just confuses me to tears. I really don’t remember having this much of a problem with my first degree.

So I should get an actual diploma and official transcript any day now.

How to make people use the stairs

deviantART: LineTo experimental by ~Volcanic-Penguin

Move your mouse around. Click on the little dials at the bottom. Have a ball.

As terminally boring as you may be.

1. Yoga
2. backup important documents to iPod
3. backup to thumb drive
4. backup to external drive
5. backup to CDRW
6. consider backing up to Roommate’s new laptop, discard idea

Roommate’s family gave him a laptop for his birthday this year. We now have four computers between two people. Go geeks!

It’s supposed to be 111F this weekend. I think I’ll fill the tub with ice water and soak through it. Or possibly lay beneath the air conditioner as Babylon 5 episodes play one after another on the new dvd player.

Roommate’s birthday celebration was filled with laughter, sushi, and funny drunken karaoke, mostly Roommate’s — five bottles of saki, one beer, and one good-sized glass of vodka later, he wasn’t making a lot of coherent sense. He thought he was, which made it all the funnier. Once home, he bounced around like his shoes had springs, laughing and chatting and being goofy, until suddenly his expression morphed from cheery to ‘oh, no’ and he tottered away and disappeared into his bathroom. Alas, for it was good vodka. The sushi bar owner is a friend of Roommate’s and meant well in giving him the vodka, I’m sure. I mopped his brow and brought him ice water, and the following morning, the hangover descended. All his plans of gardening and finishing up various projects evaporated. But he had a lot of fun, and his boss, who responded to my last-minute call to Roommate’s workplace by bringing as many of the department as were available, paid the considerable tab we racked up - there were seven of us slamming beer and sushi and teriyaki chicken, not to mention the lovely flaky crispy eggroll.

So all in all, the last minute party was a success. The cats are still being periodically freaked out by the huge ‘40′ balloon we gave him; the mylar seem to hold helium pretty well. And yesterday, he finished his garden and picked up the dvd player of his dreams so that he can now take advantage of our collection while working out on his Nordic track.

Me, I’m still writing, spending time in downward dog, and whittling away at projects. I think today’s menu will include margherita pizza. It’s a mellow day, in spite of the blistering heat wave.

Next Wednesday. At the clinic not 200 steps from my front door.

EEEEEEEEEEEE!

There are three positions open and they want people ASAP.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

My roommate is hitting the big 4-0 tomorrow.

I’ve been trying for a couple of months now to figure out what to do - it’s one of those landmark birthdays, after all. I wanted a surprise party. He’s hard to do that for, however, due to his completely wonky work schedule and complete lack of planning - which is contradictory, considering how terribly anal he is about things, but there it is. For weeks, casual interested questions into his activity for this week have been met with “I might go here” and “maybe I’ll be there” and “I think I’ll do x” and none of it has helped me pin down a likely time and place to pull something off. He’s been (so far as I can tell, it’s hard to know when he’s changed his story 80 times) in SF with relatives, in Sacramento with his dad for father’s day, and called this morning to say he’d be back here around three or so. The reason he called was to ask about what type of DVD player he should get to play divx videos (I think my burgeoning collection is too tempting for him) and that he’s thinking about stopping at Fries, which store we do not have here in Dust Bowl, Central Calif. After some name brand dithering, I informed him that the model he’s looking at in the Fries ad is twenty bucks cheaper at Costco right now, and it’s much easier to return the thing to Costco than drive back to SF to Fries, if it doesn’t work.

I don’t think he suspects anything is up — at least not tonight. Because today’s the day before his birthday, and also, I’ve been lobbing suggestions of a trip to the coast, to the aquarium, to walk around at Point Lobos where the temps are not 110F in the shade (I think I’m going to break some sort of world record for drinking ice tea any time now).

But, I just sweated for two hours in my AC-less car to buy balloons and a present and leave them at his favorite sushi restaurant, whose proprieter he knows, and I’ve made calls to pretty much everyone in the area he knows well enough to drink sake with, and somewhere around 5:45 I’m going to pry him out the door and head that direction, wailing that he never takes me for sushi any more and let’s do that tonight since we’ve nothing better to do.

I wonder how much sake it will take to get him to sing karaoke?

I think I may have fixed the comment linking prob….

VidiotBox » Star Trek versus Star Wars

No, I’m not posting a commentary on another BSG ep. Yet.

No, I’m sort of getting other stuff done today. I’ve been meaning to clean house for a while, and it’s Monday, and there’s no job to drive off to so today’s the day. It’s nearly 9 - I’ve already made a batch of almond lemon curd, done a load of dishes, made coffee, sent off a resume for a part time position (YAY for email and people who use it) and will probably snail mail another before the day is through.

Over the weekend I spent a lot of time re-reading and taking notes on a prior fic novel, to whittle away further at the prep work to write the sequel to it. It’s been a few years, much to my dismay. The sequel is something I thought I had a handle on several times over the last year, but something always happened to derail it. As Seema said the other day, sometimes taking a long break really helps regenerate the interest in whatever you’ve lost interest in, and that certainly seems to be the case. I also have a 60+ page WIP that I’d stalled on, and the solution flashed into my head the other night — I’ve been deleting pages of dialogue and rewriting it in hour-long sessions, off and on. I’m letting another WIP rest, after both Seema and I had a go at it.

In between, I’ve found a yoga podcast, rented yoga dvds from Netflix, and generally tried to figure out how to keep my habit despite the oncoming end of my ability to attend actual classes. At fourteen bucks a lesson, it’s not in my budget. I have to find a job. Doggone it.

So far, so bad. In the first five minutes we have a planet conveniently appear just as Starbuck needs to crash. Three ships on the radar meant four ships in actuality - the cylons shot at Starbuck and Boomer and tore up the underside of Starbuck’s viper. “Hey, look, a delta class planet!” I guess they have to call it something but who knows what a delta class is? Probably the same as every other planet they’ve run across — habitable and overrun by humans and cylons in anachronistic settings.

Sure enough, here we are at Castle Cylon. Looks like we’re re-using one of the backlots from some medieval flick. Lucifer is all in white and red stripes - he’s a candy striper! Not a good look for him. A centurion informs him vipers are approaching. He goes inside. Why are cylons using candles? There’s also some sort of assembly line. Centurions don’t make good workers; poor dexterity.

Starbuck climbs out of his downed viper and goes limping through a swamp, trying to evade centurions. They hike into the water after him. I have to hand it to Dirk Benedict, that water doesn’t look pleasant. He struggles into a jungle and falls into some ferns and evergreens. The centurions catch him.

Oh, that wasn’t Lucifer - it was an early model of the same ‘bot. The real Lucifer informs Baltar what’s happened and they get on the horn to Specter, who is now in red and gold stripes - must have dressed up for the occasion.

OH MAN - a guy in a winged helmet riding a unicorn spots the centurions carrying Starbuck. He sounds the alarm with a horn, and shots are fired, and the centurions fall. People in buckskin ride up on unicorns. One of them poses dramatically and welcomes him to Attila.

Let’s pause for a moment to appreciate this. On a planet called Attila, folks in pseudo-viking helmets wearing buckskin and feathers like Native Americans are riding white horses with golden (rubber) horns. I picture the writers standing in front of a list of cultures past and present, throwing darts to select “what kind of hat should they wear? what kind of animal should they ride?”

Adama is in bed - apparently sick. Boomer and Apollo arrive and bother him, which also bothers Cassie. Tigh says the cylons have penetrated more deeply than expected — deeply? That implies going into some region more deeply than moving further away and out, as I would imagine they are doing, as they leave the colonies. I don’t understand their spatial references - I don’t think they do either.

??? !!! these are blond kids. The oldest boy has the most perfectly feathered hair I’ve ever seen. It’s a Princess Di cut. The girl is called Miri. Now they’re wearing feathers. A bunch of little kids run in for food. Starbuck flirts with Miri - or is it Mary? Maybe it’s Mary. Big Boy says they have a mission. Everyone else seems to like the idea of going back with Starbuck.

Boxey comes to see grandpa, sneaking past Cassie, who’s sleeping on the couch. Adama tucks the kid in with him and kid tells him a story of a planet full of daggits. You think the kid’s a little obsessed?

Candy striper cylon is talking to centurions - suddenly there’s an explosion. The unicorn riders blew something up. Big Boy wants to trade Starbuck to the “tin cans” and get their father back. Miri, Warrior Princess, looks upset - she doesn’t want to do it. I think I smell a crush.

Shot of Specter the candy striper that proves he is nothing but a person wearing flowing robes and a flashing pointy head-puppet-thing perched high on his head. “Freakishly tall” is the term. That explains the too-neatly-squared shoulders. The dad of the juvenile unicorn wranglers is in his custody and he’s striking a deal with him to get the warrior. We’ll let you go. You stop the attacks on our base. We’ll get the warrior and we’ll be happy. Sounds hinky to me.

Unicorns with bouncy rubber horns look just as funny at night. Boy with wings on head says to Starbuck, we’re moving camp. A bell rings - Boy blows a horn in answer. Starbuck argues with him - you think I’m taking over, boy? He tries some adult-ish psychology trick on the kid that sounds a lot like “being patronizing” and the Boy doesn’t fall for it, but then lets slip about Dad and Starbuck figures out he’s going up on the altar to get dad back.

Lucifer tells Baltar Specter is stockpiling and doing some other things that are hinky, and at this point I’m laughing along with Baltar - even though I totally disagree with his fashion sense. Suede boots with green velour body suit? Yeek. Specter calls and kisses Baltar’s butt, and Lucifer swears in fake-colonial - felgercarb. These cylons are less cylon than most of the human kind in the remake.

Boy’s plan involves boats. This proves he knows nothing at all - any plan involving boats just asks for something to go wrong. I knew someone who held a wedding in boats, and let’s just say the rental place wasn’t happy with the condition of the tuxedoes. Anyway. Here comes Specter with Dear Old Dad, and shouting across the water ensues. Boy gives the signal, and a centurion holds Dad back. Specter sends out a boat with a dummy in it. See, this is another reason the Eternal Night thing is useful. The kids send Starbuck across, and get the dummy in return. “Starbuck was right.” Well, yes. Aaaaand, the boat gets there, and it’s another dummy! Wearing Starbuck’s jacket. Yay. Starbuck pops up with a nekkid chest - ooooooooo.

Shuttle on the way. Boomer and Apollo are looking for their lost friend. “We’ll get there in two centauris, give or take a centon.” I nearly expected “give or take a narn.” Snicker.

Starbuck’s eyeballing the castle and planning a rescue. Oh, no - secret passages. This is where Starbuck teaches them to sing their plan to get Dad back. I think I’ll just fast forward through that. Don’t think we’ll miss much. skips past long boring sequences of children chanting instructions as they sneak around… at night

Baltar talks to Specter some more. “You actually believe that daggit drivel?” Lucifer says. Oy. Jealous robots.

The kids have blown the fuel dump and centurions are rushing around - as they reach the bridge, a little girl lobs bombs on them. You know, the fleet really needs to get all the kids out on the job. Cylons are really susceptible to stupid plans involving many small children.

Starbuck and Miri/Mary are racing through the castle, shooting cylons, scurrying around, looking for the cell. Starbuck shoots out the lock and they’re off.

Specter lies to Baltar about destroying the last of the humans and their habitats, and orders evacuation. Heh. The kids are reunited with their daddy. Starbuck and Jailbait - er, Miri, grin at each other. Apollo and Boomer arrive - “what hit this place, an army?” - uh huh.

I think characters on this show take turns playing Mary Sue.

Starbuck wants them to go with the fleet, but Dad does what every protective and responsible dad does when faced with a choice between joining the rest of the human race, thus offering his children a choice other than inbreeding, and staying on a planet with a population of Them. He stays. Starbuck gives Miri a good bye kiss. Apollo rolls his eyes. “How does he do it?” What, kiss? No wonder you can’t keep a girl, dude.

Happy Morning

Or, possibly, a pad of blank restraining order forms.

ETA: Okay, direct linking doesn’t work. Click “latest ads” and pick Happy Morning.

Rocky, for some reason your comment showed up on a post I don’t think you intended to comment on - don’t understand why. Must be some sort of MySQL glitch. So I’m acknowledging it here. Thank you for your compliment on the essay, and for the LJ rec. I’ll check that community out.

As for the next episode…. Looks daft. The clips before the credits, that is. Daft. Someone’s capturing people with nets. Hmmm. I almost remember this one.

We open with a fight. More stock footage, more explosions that should only happen within atmosphere. In the cut scenes showing pilots in cockpits, the stars are dense; in scenes showing Galactica they’re normal looking scattered stars. They even throw in footage of the fleet I haven’t seen before. Cylons get to the fleet, and the vipers mop up. The agriculture ship, the one with all the domes, takes a beating.

Tigh says two agro ships were destroyed - ships? OH, they mean the bubbles on that big ship with the terrariums. Yeah, that I saw. Flash to Tigh talking to a jowly guy about needing seed and crops being destroyed because the airlock was damaged and air was — wait a minute, how is it they’re walking around among the damaged crops? a) no air b) there wouldn’t be any crops, dirt, or anything else if the damage I saw being done actually happened.

Ah, it’s only tv. Right?

Adama knows where to get seed - an agricultural colony. But he wants to trade with something that won’t link them with the colonial fleet, lest the cylons get wind that they were there. There’s a generator without military markings. It belongs to Siress Bellaby, who will only deal with Adama.

Cue a shuttle ride to the Gemini freighter, which is none other than the ship used in new BSG to sneak in a viper squadron to destroy the base on the asteriod. It looks like a conglomeration of railroad freight cars. Now we’re inside walking down a corridor, Tigh and Apollo and Adama. Adama has a big bunch of flowers and looks like he’s going to his own funeral. There’s an awkward dithering scene where he tries to leave and Apollo pushes him into where Bellaby is calling out to him, sounding just like any maneating tv lady looking for a good time.

Okay. Here she is, the budget Lwaxana Troi. Although she precedes TNG by lots of years…. She’s Lwaxana all over. “What do you want in return for the energizer?” “Oh, Adaaaaama, after all these years, you should know - I want … you.”

This hurts to watch, I’m telling you. Adama just ordered Apollo to prepare the shuttle with provisions for five - they’re taking the old bat along. She refused to cooperate otherwise. Adama is whoring himself out for seeds to grow food for the fleet. And he’s not happy about it. I liked Picard’s methods of dealing with this sort of thing better; Adama’s totally losing his cool on Apollo, and it’s not Apollo’s fault. They could do something else — like laser off/paint over the fleet markings on one of the other generators? This would only be necessary if this were the only spare whatsit in the whole fleet. Come on, guys, at least make a bit of sense.

Boxey wants to go. Apollo decides if Bellaby’s going, the kid’s going. Pigtail girl is on vacation - nondescript short-haired dude is flipping the usual switches on the bridge and telling them to take off. On the shuttle, Budget Troi is cuddling up to Adama.

???????? a brief narration and caption fest as Adama explains in voiceover where they’re going and why it exists. Way to disrupt the show. Whatever. It’s one of the many planets with humans on it. They run across planets just like it all the time. The villagers are running and hiding at the sight of the moon, because when the moon is full, the pig people ride! I’m not kidding - and these are the ugliest pig masks ever. They have nothing to protect themselves (the villagers, that is) except an old musket… rifle… long old-looking gun. Constable goes outside with the gun. The pigs are riding camels in costume and we’re expected to believe there are so many of them that the buildings are shaking up and down and around. Right.

I think it’s always night on whatever planet because it’s easier to disguise really bad props and riding animals. You never get a clear look at anything, between that and the quick cuts from one thing to the next.

GAH-inducing scene in which Adama manipulates himself a chaperone. Mini-Lwaxana wants to get him alone, and that’s the last thing Adama wants. Starbuck and Boomer ride off on a tank-thingie with the energizer whatsis, and Adama is fending off Mini-Lwaxana with “please, not in front of the children.” Apollo gives him a classic “I hate you Father” look when he says that. I laughed.

Bonus: here’s a picture of Adama and his eager lady friend, seeing off Boomer and Starbuck. Coincidentally, it’s also a perfect example of why this show has no credibility at all.

My planit iz pastede on yay.

Of course, I could grab any still from just about anywhere and show you something unconvincing. This is pretty obviously bad, though.

And I guess the title is meant to be funny. Starbuck and Boomer go to town, talk to the folk (who scheme to turn Starbuck into the new constable), and are driving off in their little humvee thingie when nets fall on them. Bandits make off with everything and leave them in the road, on foot, swearing in fake curse words. “Why buy the energizer if you can steal it?” Boomer sez, in disgruntled brilliance. Magnificent!

Or, the title is homage to the Magnificent Seven. By which we (those of us who saw that movie, anyway) know that Our Heroes will help the poor pig-ridden village. Which we already knew they would.

There’s a dude with a sparkly jacket and poofy shirt in charge in the village - we’ll call him Liberace - and when Starbuck goes back and confronts him about the theft, Lib sez there’s no theft in Serenity and there must be some other explanation. He wants Starbuck to stick around and work for a while … as constable. Starbuck lays out the cash, and Liberace gives him a hard time, chatting about conversion from quantums to quatloos to Australian dollars. The next thing you know Starbuck’s gambling and winning. Gambling for seeds, prostituting for seeds… between Adama and Starbuck we’ve got a whole lot of sinnin’ going on.

Flash to the pig people. Sharpen weapons. Point at moon. RRRRR, OOOO.

Liberace gives Starbuck the badge of the constable as if it’s some sort of money. As-You-know-Bob talking to a chum in the background informs us it doesn’t matter how you get it, you’re still responsible once you have it to protect and so forth. Like Starbuck’s going to buy into their rules - well, what am I saying. He will. The Plot Fairy said so.

Boomer walks back to camp and tells everyone else the bad news - they repeat everything he’s saying, I guess because someone thought it was funny. Adama makes an odd series of assignments somehow managing to keep himself adequately chaperoned. No one is fooled. Everyone looks at each other like “the old man’s lost it.”

Budget Troi is sniping about sending boys to do men’s work, and Adama tries to get her to shut up. She says she’ll tell him where the energizer is for a kiss - wait, how does she know? She lays one on him and says it’s worth it. I guess she likes being kissed insincerely? She shows him the tracks of the transport leading up to a shed - he kisses her briefly out of gratitude and races off to re-appropriate his goods. Maybe I’m cynical that way, but if an old lady in a foofy purple bathrobe can spot something that warriors/soldiers can’t, maybe we should fire Greenbean and Apollo and have her doing the real work?

“Squire” Adama comes to the saloon looking for the local law enforcement, apparently thinking it will be simple to report his stolen goods, show them to the constable, and get them back. He doesn’t figure on the village folk introducing him to Constable Starbuck. In a more private setting, he reams Starbuck a new one for always getting himself into situations like this, giving me flashbacks to every time Little Joe did something boneheaded and got Pa to help him get out of trouble, only Starbuck doesn’t have Hoss standing around looking sheepish for helping him. “My main suspect was playing cards,” Starbuck excuses. (I’m using a said-bookism for Seema, of course.) Liberace comes in, Adama tries to wiggle his officer out of the constable gig. Liberace ain’t having it. He’s actually fessing up now to the existance of the pig-dog camel riders and listing out the damages, and Starbuck wibbles ineffectually - oh, yeah, he’s such a man. “I don’t feel so well.” Bleah. Apollo comes in and wants them to come along - pig-dogs are raiding the food. Adama wants Budget Troi to go hide in the jail. He takes charge, takes the men to the edge of town, and it’s a showdown! “Holy frak, feels like they could shake us to death!” Yeah, Starbuck, I think it’s funny too.

Budget Troi arms herself and stomps back out there to help. And gets kidnapped. Great. Hopefully Adama knows poetry? (yes, bad TNG fan, no biscuit for obscure references. This is re: a bad ep in which Picard fakes undying devotion to Lwaxana to convince a Ferengi… oh, never mind.)

Liberace and Co. plus Adama and Co. decide to go after her in the regained vehicle along with the daggit, who has tracking ability. Heck, a blind deaf-mute has better tracking ability than these people. Muffy leads them … somewhere. It’s dark. I’d like to see you do better. He goes in a cave, the guys get torches and go in after, and are busily as-you-know-bobbing as they wander through toward a fire. The budget Tellarites surround them. The head pig boy beckons, Adama goes over to … grunt with him, and he’s led in a smaller cave where Bellaby is being held. She burbles something about how much he must love her and he just does this great eye roll.

Back at the fire, things are tense. Adama comes back and froths about how stubborn lazy and self centered the leader is, and he can’t be reasoned with. How’d he figure out the lazy part? Starbuck develops a light bulb and whispers with Adama then goes in — it’s a long shot, Adama says, but worth a try. A few tense minutes later Starbuck comes back with Budget Troi. So, what did he do? Hmmm.

Back at the village, transactions are finally finished and seed is acquired. Starbuck announces that he’s solved everyone’s problem. Guess what? he gave the job of constable, and the badge, to the leader of the pig dogs. The villagers have to accept it after all. No more raids, no more problem. Bellaby kisses Starbuck in joy and informs Adama she needs a different sort of man, that he’s just too dignified and serious - she wants a “real animal.” And goes to buy the house a drink.

blink blink

Apollo thanks the lords, cause he justs didn’t see calling her mother. Adama gives him a long slow incredulous look. Freeze Frame. Cut to Trumpets of Pomposity and Adama’s ragtag fleet voiceover.

The next episode: The Young Lords. Starbuck crashes. Things happen. It looks like night again. Whee.

1. I totally panicked for no reason. I thought I’d screwed up something because in trying to consolidate my loans, I found that I was still “in school” according to the university - ergo I must have forgotten some critical bit of administrivia. I didn’t. There was a form, I found it, I screamed because I’d never seen it before, and today my program coordinator said he’d already filed it on my behalf. I totally would have hugged him if he’d been standing in front of me. I think I shorted out my phone wibbling about it.

2. I TOTALLY PASSED the certification exam I took earlier this year, which I hardly studied for and didn’t care about — my burnout is not pasted on, it’s bone-deep, stick a fork in me yadda yadda. But I passed.

3. My degree will post on the 16th, which is far too late for anyone’s liking, but I guess they think professors will want to change grades at the extreme last minute. WTF? But I’ll be able to consolidate student loans before July.

4. My back, which I have issues with and pulled muscles in last Thursday by attending a yoga class and going all out where I should have held back, is feeling much better today.

5. Roommate let me use a gift certificate his momma gave him for some holiday last year. One of the items I ordered was a herb-filled microwavable hot/cold bag of what appears to be sand. It came today. My shoulders love it already.

All of this almost makes up for having a crappy boring temp job.

Lost in Castration

You may have seen this article a long time ago. I didn’t even know it existed, nor did I know Dirk Benedict had a website.

Here’s the thing: I’ve been watching both series. The lovable rogue of old came off to me as flirtatious all right, but you know, a cage match between him and the new Starbuck? He’d probably lose. He’d try to flirt with her, or totally misjudge her cause she’s a girl. In an actual military setting, Starbuck the lovable rogue would have washed out before the cylons ever arrived thanks to his habit of manipulating situations so he could break the rules. So would Apollo, who, in the 1978 series, rushed off willy-nilly and disobeyed orders on a weekly basis, getting himself and others into dangerous situations and out of contact with Galactica.

The women 1978-Starbuck flirted with were petty and one-sided, responding to their emotional urges in pretty much the same way a toddler would. In other scenes they are presented as being level-headed and professional. The characters had multiple personalities, depending on how the show’s writers and/or production crew wanted the plot to unfold, and the characters were sacrificed to their whimsy. It happened all the time in television and it still does. But, I have a lot of problems with that sort of writing. The main difference between the two series is that one is not character-centered, and the other follows a logical progression of incident-reaction-character growth/change, in which the writers have an idea of the main events and how characters will behave, and write the characters consistently. I’ll let you guess which is which.

Example: My initial reaction to a female Starbuck was disbelief. Then I watched, and saw that by comparison, female-Starbuck is actually more macho than male-Starbuck. She out-plays, out-bullies, and out-flies most of the guys. Which is not to say the guys are pansies - Helo, Apollo, Racetrack and others are fit, toned, athletic soldiers with attitudes, and certainly approach problems with the respect for discipline and chain of command that one would expect — except when Apollo goes against his father because Adama is moving against the president. Starbuck the girl is believable because her history, revealed to us not as her explaining it to someone but in bits and pieces, usually through others forcing her to reveal it - also consistent with her character. She is a tough, determined, and also somewhat broken person who is doing the best she can. We can hurt for her because we, or most of us, have known someone who was abused, know people who are compensating for deep personal hurts, know people who are their own worst enemy with flawed personalities. She’s the same character over and over, but she grows slowly, learns from mistakes, and we feel as though we know her because we see this happening. Whereas the old Starbuck was the same from episode one til episode last. You don’t need more than one episode to know he’s a lovable rogue with a charming smile and a hedonistic bent. He’s loyal to his friends, not afraid to leap into a fight, loves to fly. To an extent this is also true of new Starbuck - but she is not a lovable rogue. She’s a stubborn woman who’s gone into the military and loves to fly, but her willingness to leap into a fight may very well be tied to a deeper, unexpressed death wish. She’s complicated. She’s human, not a paper doll hero.

And then there’s Apollo, who firmly believes that the colonies’ best interests are served by preserving the government, which supercedes the need for him to follow orders. In other words, he disobeys orders because he believes he has a moral imperative to do so. Not because he wants to spare his fellow soldiers, out-macho anyone, or any of the other reasons old-Apollo had whenever he turbo’d off alone into space on some wild ride into danger. This is a character-driven plot choice. Apollo believes in a democratic government and will even buck the military to preserve it when the military shows signs of moving against it.

This isn’t to say that I don’t care for the older version; I loved the 1978 series, and I loved the characters. But I was also a kid then. I watch the episodes today and wince, and wish that the writers had done better. I don’t care about the special effects so much as I do about the characters. When Athena throws a hissy about Starbuck seeing Cassiopia, I wince. When Cassie shrugs off Starbuck’s wanton ways, I wince. These aren’t the adults I’m hoping to see now, years later, looking back at shows I watched in my formative years. These are high school kids playacting relationship dynamics. And while it’s certainly common for adults to act like kids - check out any divorce in progress for an example of regression - I’d hope that even if they were inept with relationships, even if they had emotional problems, they would behave differently. Part of maturity is learning to react with a balanced perspective - not ignoring emotional reactions but treating emotions as one of several factors that should influence decision making. Most of the characters in the old series are working out of the id, except for Adama, who is a fine example of the ego at work.

Mr. Benedict says that the newer version is female-driven. In a cast with equal numbers of females and males? The original had two regular female members, a revolving door of short-timers, and Serena gets killed in the first couple of episodes for the sin of marrying Apollo. (This is often called the Bonanza effect, wherein love interests of the main characters die because the guys need to be free to receive the adoration of the hoards of female fans.) Athena and Cassiopia (and later Sheba) have supporting roles. Athena sits on the bridge and announces things, even though we’re told she’s a pilot and a warrior. Cassie is a nurse, though originally a hooker. Sheba is one of the pilots - and why are all the new recruits female when they get around to recruiting? Just because there are females on the show does not make it female-centric; giving females names and speaking roles only evens out the playing field. Having a lot of women on the screen but having only two or three with speaking parts, then showing them being over-emotional and wishy-washy, does nothing for me. I am not a badge-carrying, all-caps FEMINIST who sees injustice in every instance of a female character in a supporting role; I merely appreciate well-rounded, realistic characters of all genders. So I’d have to say the newer BSG wins on that front, in that whether dealing with male or female, I can believe that the characters are people, rather than trying to ignore irritating bits while enjoying the good. The show is human-centric.

And ‘enjoy’ isn’t necessarily right. ‘Appreciate’ is more like it. New BSG is rather more like the HBO series, in that it doesn’t idealize. But I never really believed, in the old series, that the characters were really suffering so much - Apollo mentioned his dead wife a number of times but only when the plot demanded, and while he and Starbuck were always racing off to spare each other whatever consequences going on the long patrol would cause them (”you just got married, I’ll go”). There were no real consequences for them. Starbuck took the patrol, crashed, went through a lot of whatever, but always came back in the end with no real price paid for taking the mission instead of Apollo. Heroes in 70s tv were predictable that way: 1) no consequences for breaking rules or disobeying orders (unless it was a cop show, then the chief would chew them out and then do nothing) 2) no marriage/long-term romance 3) no permanent disability or injury with consequences that last longer than one episode. New BSG chops those rules up and spits them out. Heroes are injured and on crutches, and struggle with recovery. They die. They stay on Caprica to send a scientist back to the fleet, because they believe said scientist is more useful to the common good, then suffer through hunger, radiation poisoning, and long runs through wilderness to escape the enemy. No, it’s not very enjoyable to watch. But life is like that. You struggle. Maybe not with cylons, but with work schedules and sick kids and idiot bosses who make you stay long hours. And if there’s one thing that keeps a human being sane, it’s knowing that we’re not alone in struggling, and spacemen fighting robots is only given effective emotional connection for us when the struggle is in terms we understand. There’s a lot riding on every shot of a viper’s laser, but the more visceral, less CGI shots of Starbuck in a hospital bed hating life, of Helo in the rain panting and limping - they connect us so when the viper does fire it has more impact. The viper fights are more visceral in the new series because we aren’t shown stock footage of the same four maneuvers over and over again; we see the pilots in the cockpits, sweating and swearing, collisions and palpable fear, and interspersed shots of how vast space is and how distant the Galactica, how nukes strike panic into them. I never get that space is vast in the old series. I don’t buy into the idea that the cylons are that much of a threat - we only see three of them at a time. No wonder the fleet can hold the cylons at bay with one squadron - yeah, there was red and blue squadron, but why do we never see them all? We see two or three vipers. The limits of budget, yes. But.

It’s not the special effects that do it. Are we more interested in the Matrix or in BSG 2003? Which one connects us with the characters more? Matrix is pretty and neat and waaaaay cool special effects - and one-dimensional, when held up to a show that allows us to feel with the characters. One of the things that jars me (today) out of old BSG is that the props/special effects department tries too hard. Women in spandex, plastic props, irritating and difficult names for everything (resorting to scientific names for some animals and fake time unit names based on metrics really throws me for a loop), and all that reconstituted myth couched in Lorne Green’s lugubrious delivery — too much. New BSG shows a civilization not much different than our own. Alien, but familiar. It works very well. Adama wears glasses, as do several others. The clothes aren’t wild polyester and foil attempts at futuristic. Not having CGI doesn’t have to be a drawback.

I suppose the upshot of what I’m trying to say is that re-imagined isn’t un-imagined, as Mr. Benedict insists. Different isn’t worse, or better, it’s simply different. I can suppose there might be others who believe the first version was superior — in presenting idealistic and one-sided characters, yes. In character development and presentation, no. The original Star Trek had more primitive special effects and some pretty hammy acting, and yet I can watch the most wince-worthy of Trek episodes and be less annoyed than I was by The Gun on Ice Planet Zero or The Lost Patrol because the plot had some sense to it. Sure, someone stealing Spock’s brain to run their air conditioning was a hare-brained excuse for sticking a widget on Nimoy’s head, dressing a few women up in fur bikinis, and letting McCoy and Spock crack wise, but at least they made a passing attempt at science, and the characters were consistent. At least we weren’t expected to believe a single star system had 12 life-sustaining planets, that every asteriod and moon has a breathable atmosphere despite total absence of plants or some artificial means of creating one, or that a random prisoner on a forgotten planet will draw maps to Earth on his cell wall to be discovered by a pilot who just happens to be thrown in the same cell and remember the pictographs accurately enough to correct a drawing of the Earth system rendered by a small child.

There’s a thing called ’suspension of disbelief.’ Mine was a lot more durable when I was a kid, apparently. It certainly withstood crap like that much better before I had a clearer understanding of science and statistical probability.

I mentioned that the temp job was with a law firm. All I do is answer phones and greet people. There’s a 20-ish guy who is the ‘runner’ - lots of law firms have runners, who go-fer court papers and all sorts of things - in this small-ish firm, the runner also fills in for the receptionist, so he trained me, as much as I needed training. I really could have figured out the phone. What he didn’t do was teach me how to pronounce some of the jaw-cracking names of staff.

The actual name of the company consists of the top partners, of course, just as usual - those are unremarkable. So answering the phone is no prob - sort of like “Smith, Wesson and Remington, how may I direct your call?” It’s when the caller wants one of the many associates that things get un-fun. “Can I speak to Xrckrkurkisk?” “How do you say his name - Rucklckstrk?”*

And then there’s the accents. I can’t even identify half of the accents I’ve heard over the past few days. There was a nice Southern drawl, and some fine examples of regular old Slurvian - English massacred by the laziness of folks who can’t be bothered to enunciate - but sometimes, it sounds like not only is the person English as a second language, they’ve put the phone in a can then buried it beneath the elm tree in the back yard and gone back through to the living room to place the call, but only after slamming as many marbles as possible into their cheeks. And add into the mix that they ask for the biggest mouthful of consonants in the place — whee! It’s the mystery client! What do they want, how do they want it, and who do they want it from?

Thank goodness for voicemail. And for being the temp — everyone blames the temp, because you can’t possibly expect them to get everything right. And no one cares, cause you won’t be around long enough to punish. Hopefully they’ll know how to forward voicemails.

*Yes, all fictional and all exaggerated.

I applied for consolidation of student loans, as interest rates are about to jump. I waited til a week after graduation, figuring it would take a while to be processed. I received a decline letter today that said I was still enrolled and therefore not able to consolidate.

Um. I am not registered for summer classes, fall classes or spring. I haven’t applied for any sort of financial aid. I haven’t done a doggone thing, other than, y’know, graduate. Like, WTF?

I know that there is a class every day at 5:30 pm at the yoga studio. I showed up thinking I was going to flow tonight, after a trying day at the temp job, and discovered the schedule changed since Tuesday. So I went to intermediate vinyasa.

I think I left a gallon of water behind, but I feel good. Well, except for my rubbery legs, sore knees and gimpy arms, but, good.

Temp job is simple — sit reading a book until six or seven lines ring, then try to say everyone’s name correctly, route the calls quickly, and remember the magic sequence to page people. There are people in this world who have too many consonants in their name for anyone’s good.

Okay, at some point, you’ll hate me. I know it. Then you’ll comment and tell me to STOP with the old BSG eps, and I probably will, just because I’m hating it… except this one. The title’s wacky, but you know, there’s something familiar about it. The fleet sends the folks from the prison ship to do some hard labor.

I’m always amused by the little crew mover things - they cram the pilots on them and then roll the guys through the halls to the landing bays. I have this urge to throw a bowling ball.

Pigtail girl is on the job again. The latest scout mission finds a hostil ice planet - as in hostile atmosphere. She shows their scan on the screen. Boomer and Starbuck go for a closer look. Now we’re getting something we haven’t had before — cylons in their base are preparing to fire, and get the attention of the patrol. They hit the first viper in range with their super gun. I can see where this is going. They’re gonna send prisoners to take it out. I think I like the search for water idea better.

Two cadets go into the atmosphere - against orders, but hey, no one gets disciplinary action for that anyway. Of course, one gets shot. The other is forced down by cylon raiders. All he needs now is a tauntaun. Starbuck and a reluctant Boomer go in next, but Boomer convinces him to go home to report — finally, someone takes a suggestion! The stock footage keeps showing three vipers instead of two. Whatever.

The Conversation on the bridge. What can we do against a big gun like that? A small ground force. Cue the computer search and the selection of prisoners. Cue the cute goodbye scene with Boxey. Apollo’s going? So are Boomer and Starbuck. So are six prisoners with arctic experience. I wonder if you searched every prison in the US, how many prisoners would have arctic exploration experience?

More footage of cylons reacting to the appearance of vipers and a shuttle. Wow, this is the most I’ve seen of actual centurions, like ever. And they’re boring and monotone. I don’t think the centurions in BSG 03 ever speak, come to think of it. The shuttle gets shot, crashes into snow, and we’re off to adventure! Galactica can’t read them anymore. The cylons in slow monotone talk to the patrol, letting them know to search for wreckage and leave no survivors — everyone repeats everything everyone else says! ack! Quit talking!

The shuttle’s in bad shape; Starbuck smacked his head on the console and everyone got thrown around. They drive a landram off the shuttle - wow, so that’s how they get them down there. Apollo finds Boxey in the vehicle - “Muffit wanted to see snow.” Good grief! Starbuck uses the gun on the vehicle to shoot down the cylons.

Oh, goody, cylons are torturing the captured pilot with acrylic rods connected to his cortex. Which they aren’t, they’re sort of hanging down around him, and he looks not so worried yet. The cylon claims the machine will read his mind. “You have a nervous system that carries impulses. Impulses that contain information.” For a bunch of… things that have access to a mindreading machine, these centurions are amazingly untechnical.

The storm hits, so the transport stops and they wait it out. Muffit hops out of the transport and runs off. We get scenes of cylons wandering in the snow, and the daggit running around, and it looks like the daggit will confront them - except it doesn’t. People walk out of the snow, and then we go to a big room where all the folks are unmasked and waking up. A hunting party found Muffit who led it back to the transport. Huh? Not only that, they look the same - clones. Lots of the same women, lots of the same men. Now, of all the things you would expect to find on a planet where the air actually turns liquid, would you say ‘clones?’ As it turns out, the cylons have a human scientist who built the laser and is allowed to stay there experimenting as he wants to so long as he helps them. Shades of scientist Baltar of next gen BSG.

So then there’s this long trek through the snow, where they all stumble along, and the cylons are out wandering around too, and there’s hiding and slogging and more snow.

Back on the base star, which we haven’t seen in a while, Lucifer and Baltar duke it out verbally before a ‘to be continued’ flashes on the screen. Baltar’s face is weird - like rubber, like Phlox’s in that scene in the Enterprise pilot (which is about all I saw of that show). Only it’s not special effects. It’s just John Colicos’ enormous chipmunk cheeks.

I guess I need to watch part two. Someday.

At least it wasn’t the LOST patrol. I was a little burned out on the lost theme.

At some point, I’m going to write an essay comparing the two BSG’s. Not original, perhaps, but what about me really is? Nothing new under the sun, y’know. Heck, even that’s a cliche.

As I type this, the Trumpets of Pomposity are working on the credits, as the same four ships sail past three or four times…. And the credits roll, and roll, and here we are at last, with the fleet moving out of a cloud of asteriod dust. Everyone’s on the bridge — well, Adama, and Adama Jr., and Adopted Adama the III i.e. Boxey. They’re leaving their star system. What the frell kind of star system has 12 habitable planets in it? I guess it depends on your definition of star system; maybe they mean a system of 12 stars and associated planets?

Apollo sez Starbuck volunteered for a long patrol so he can get on the short list for a visit to the Rising Star, which just opened for business. Athena angsts that she’s unable to make it for dinner with Starbuck cause she has to work; Pa’dama cuts her a break and says he’ll fill in for her. Gee, thanks, Dad! Cut to the luxury liner, where Starbuck’s bribing someone to get a private room so he can make out with Cassiopia. Something tells me Starbuck will have a few difficulties in a short while. Vague memories are coming back to me of juggling two women in two rooms…. Yes, it’s Battlesitcom Galactica: The Teen Years.

All the ladies are dressed so seventies! Ah, the pastels, the off-the-shoulder flowing gowns…. Oh, gah. They’re faux-kissing. Neither actor is really into this. The private room looks like it’s decorated in early 80’s Holiday Inn. Cassie excuses herself, Starbuck lights up a cigar, and oops, here comes Athena! And then Tall Butler Guy brings in the drinks, and Starbuck lays down the square gold-painted chips for another room, hustling Athena on out of there before Cassie returns.

Quick cut to the bridge and back, for a single line about “hope Starbuck is enjoying himsef” - we’re meant to laugh, I guess. Starbuck is feeding square chunks of styrofoam to Athena, who mumbles something about how wonderful they are. He jumps up to run to his other room, claiming he’ll get more, and stops in to smooch on Cassiopia. Then a page over the loudspeaker yells for him to report to Galactica. He dashes in to say goodbye to Athena as well. On his way down the hall he loads up the butler with cubits aka money, and rushes off. They look more like gold-painted triscuits than cubits. Athena and Cassie are wandering down from two directions, each with their souvenir clusters from Starbuck’s jacket, and bump into each other — guess how long it takes Athena to exclaim in fake dismay? Cassie just smiles. Ain’t that just like Starbuck?

He changes into something dark brown and velour, jumps in his viper, and is informed that they lightened the ship by removing the laser generators. So, he’s going on a long patrol without weapons. Whee. He’s also wearing a different helmet. Hmm. He tests the maneuverability of the lighter ship and finds out that a new computer has been installed. Gee, must’ve missed that briefing. You’d think he would get a “getting started” pamphlet (or maybe - gasp - actual training) but, no. Surprise! Her name’s C.O.R.A. I’m having flashbacks to Voyager’s ‘Drive.’ Which was executed with more logic and better writing. CORA’s speaking in slang and sighing in frustration - geeze, the computers in this are so not computer-like.

Hey, there’s two ships - they look vaguely colonial. They’re shooting at each other, too. One goes down on a moon. Starbuck argues with CORA over who gets to land the viper. He just can’t cut a break with women, can he? Convenient that every moon and asteriod has an atmosphere, eh?

He lands, he comes over to the crashed ship, he nearly gets beaned by a faux-Irishman who’s claiming he’s shipping parts to farmers. The dude offers him ambrosia that’s very old and very good to buy his silence. Dude’s afraid of pirates. He thinks Starbuck is a pirate. He manages to distract him and knock him out, and tries to take his viper. Come on, CORA, where are you? Dude turns her on, and tells her where to go - she wants to find Starbuck.

Irishman is sending a code to someone and the Cylons picked it up. Athena’s all worried and confuzzled by this code, and now they have to send a couple more vipers after the long patrol, who has no weapons, blah blah he-might-be-captured. Geeze louise, guys, you could have sent two vipers out the first time and let them keep the weapons! You’d think they would figure out that if Apollo or Starbuck gets two miles from Galactica, they’ll fall out of the sky and end up riding growling horses or being clobbered by space-Irishmen.

Boomer and Apollo take off. Pigtail girl - have I mentioned her? She’s apparently the Dualla-analog in this series, gives permission to launch and so forth - transfers control to the pilots and they fly. Meanwhile Starbuck wakes up, takes off in the Dude’s ship, and gets chased down by another faux-Irish in a uniform. He doesn’t introduce himself as a warrior or anything, tries to reason with them, then tries to tell the truth, then tries to bribe them. Too bad you’re not in uniform, huh?

Quick shot of vipers flying - yeah, okay, they’re still looking for him. Starbuck wakes up in jail. There’s a lot of other people here, all with bottles of something, and they toast to him. They’re in Proteus prison, whatever that means. There’s an adultress here too, with her spawn. They’re talking in terms of ’sin’ and have names that correspond with the sins of their forefathers, which is why they’re here - they’re being punished for stuff their great grandads committed. Huh. They’ve been living here for generations making ambrosia for the colonies. Starbuck thinks this is wonderful since there’s hardly any of it in the fleet.

Cassie comes to the bridge, taps Athena for an explanation of where Starbuck is, and she explains. Cassie lingers as another transmission comes in — she recognizes the code as a merchant code, because her pappa used to have her transmit his merchant… messages. I guess. Good thing Athena was so nice and not at all vindictive toward the woman who was smoochin’ her so-called boyfriend. Or whatever she thinks he is.

Apollo and Boomer follow the signal of the lost viper and find it parked in a back lot in Hollywood that looks like it was last used for a spaghetti western. I expect a cast of gringos and cowpokes to appear, but instead, someone’s shooting lasers at them. They return fire. Faux Irish limps away in a hurry, they give chase. They run, dodge laser fire, run, separate, crouch, creep, kick in doors…. Come on, guys, just follow the smell of whisky. Boomer’s about to shoot when a woman runs out and scream and bumps into him. They call off the fun then - a woman and child are present! no fighting!

The explanation comes in the morning - did I mention it was night? - and we discover they were in prison, and escaped, and Irish was doing his best to provide.

The fleet changes course. There are cylons on the way. Sadly, this means the three vipers won’t know where they are. Boxey shows up on the bridge so we the audience can see the daggit again, and he delivers a heartfelt “i miss my daddy” monologue, and Pa’dama tells him stories about earth, cuddling him on his knee. I don’t remember liking that cuddling thing when I was eight.

Starbuck is informed his new name is Bootlegger 147. He charges at the guard, finds out all the cell doors are open, and boggles that all the folks are staying there. He delivers his dramatic revelation that the colonies had no idea these people were still here, that he’s a colonial warrior, blah blah, and everyone buys into his story immediately and overtakes the guards. Everyone runs outside - wow, the prisoners are so fit for living in tiny cells - and just then Apollo and Boomer arrive to exchange banter and deliver the bullet - Galactica’s out of range and cylons are coming!

The three vipers launch and Starbuck has CORA do the driving. Hmm, there are only three cylons? They were acting like it was a huge fleet. CORA flirts with him. They execute a maneuver that results in Starbuck losing consciousness due to the excessive g’s they pull - CORA coos until he wakes up again. The cylon following them crashed into the prison. Boom goes the ambrosia. Starbuck’s disappointed.

Flip to the Rising Star, where everyone including the faux Irish and his family are dining around a table set with plates of food cubes in pastel colors. Boxey gives his father a drawing he did of a solar system and Starbuck sez it’s wrong, that this blue planet goes over here, and this launches questions of how he knew that. He remembers it from drawings in the cell he was in back on Proteus. Irish sez that was the cell inhabited by some old prisoner who did nothing but draw pictures all the time, who was some sort of wise dude. Isn’t that convenient how he knew this, seeing as how he didn’t know what cell Starbuck was in? Pa’dama pontificates that this is the solar system where earth is.

Trumpets of Grandiosity! End credits!

I’m doubting at this point that the writers of this show really meant to be so pedantic and stilted. But. Forcing the characters to do and say odd and illogical things to accomplish contorted plot turns will inevitably end up with this sort of acting. It’s as though, once the plot was in place, they were trying to shoehorn in all kinds of after-the-fact rationalizations to make it all hang together, rather than rewriting.

Onward.

Apartment Complex of Confusion has instituted some draconian rules about pets. We’re now supposed to coop up the cats indoors, which is safer blah blah so on, but really the cats have never gone much further than the front of our building. They’re fraidy cats. ACC has said they will be trapping strays and taking them to the pound.

I figure, both our cats are wearing collars with tags, one has a microchip, the other is so freaked out when a shadow moves I doubt she would go near a trap even if it had a pile of smelly tuna fish in it. Also, she doesn’t like tuna. Go figure.

Anyway, this has sent Roommate into a tailspin in which he is plotting The Cat-Proof Yard(tm), from which there will be no escape, muhuhahaha. This will evidently involve some fabric hung in some clever fashion so that jumping cats will bounce back into the yard when trying to leave. I’m predicting some fun pictures, also mixed results, because if my idiot cat can’t go where she pleases she’ll figure out another way.

Lately, Roommate has taken to going out to get Idiot in the evenings. Our usual routine is, call them in for food at 7, shut cat flap for the night. Idiot has taken to eschewing dinner to stay outside and watch the corner o’ mouse infestation. There’s a corner with a vent into the neighbor’s water heater closet where mice come through and try to nest in Roommate’s storage area. Idiot will sit there for hours at a time watching, watching, watching…. Some nights when I call, one cat will rush in and Idiot will stay out all night, but with the trap “out there somewhere,” Roommate worries and goes to get her. So she learned a new bag of tricks. When she hears me calling, she jumps on the roof. Pretty smart for an idiot, but an idiot she remains.

Six month hiatus?

Er? BSG hanging loose for a month or two was one thing, but six months in the middle of a season?

ARRRR.

I finished out the books for Former Job, the startup company… which is now stopped. My last duty was cutting myself a check for the balance left in their checking account and posting the furniture on craigslist. To everything, there is a season, and some seasons end up being shorter than others. (Yes, I did quit the job a couple months back… but they needed it done and I needed rent money.)

Today I applied for another part time clerical via email, made followup calls on apps for therapist positions, and got my hair cut. Possibly the nicest looking hair cut ever, too. It’s not easy to cut my hair, and I’ve had the dippiest butch bowl-ish haircuts to prove it. Now all I need is a job interview to show it off before it grows out again.

My Askimet spam barrier has caught more than 10,000 spams since I installed it a couple weeks ago.

Wow.

… isn’t what you think it is. Seriously.

There’s research ongoing into happiness, and it’s not just “what makes you happy” it’s “what are the biological components” and debunking lots of assumptions about what would make us happy. There are studies going on that look at happy people and not-happy people, what helps the not-happy, what doesn’t help, what parts of the brain and/or chemistry are involved….

I’m listening to a program right now about happiness and whether you can manipulate it. You can. Check it out if you have decent bandwidth (you can download and listen, too).