When we meet in sweet Siberia...

There's a song in a Fred Astaire movie where these three guys sing cheerfully about what they have to look forward to when they are sent to Siberia.

It appears that this should be the theme song of the area I'm working in.

Seriously, I'm wearing a sweater over my regular clothes, and I'm still cold enough that my fingernails are turning blue.

The shop floor below us is warm. The other buildings are warm. Why does it feel like they're running the air conditioning in here?

And the Field Narrows

This, in my opinion, is one of the problems of the non-simultaneous primaries that are part of the presidential election. Serious contenders are dropping out with only a handful of states really getting to be heard. I hold no animosity towards Iowa or New Hampshire, and I fully support the tiered voting of the electoral college, but why should failing to win Florida mean you drop out of the race without even hearing from, say, New York, Pennsylvania, Texas, or California?

And another strike against Hillary - the Democratic Party says Florida's votes won't count in the primary because they broke the rules. But after 'winning' the primary she promises to try to get them counted anyway. Why do I doubt she'd have done the same thing if someone else came in first?

Hold your breath for Super Tuesday...

From the Frontlines: Ursulmas

This weekend was Ursulmas; the feast of the semi-mythical St. Ursul, patron of the Barony of Aquaterra.

It is one of the 'big' rapier events each year, and this year was no exception with six tournaments, five of which I participated in (the sixth was for fighters 40 years old or older).

We opened with a "hold the field tourney"; the winner of each fight stays on the field, the looser moves on to another field. The total number of fights won is counted, and the top handful (we had 41 entries) go to the finals.

Next up was a "duo's tourney" - we were paired off with another fighter and set to fight an opposing pair in a double-elimination format. Sadly my partner and I were rapidly eliminated.

The final tourney on Saturday was a Sable Rose Tournament. These emphasize pagentry and chivalry; each fighter must bring someone as their "inspiration", and formally present themselves and their inspiration to the judges. In addition to an award for the winner (and their inspiration), awards are generally given for best death (crawling off the field, having someone sing a funeral song, etc.), most chivalric fighter (by polling the fighters themselves), and in this case, best introduction. I am pleased to announce that I won my first SCA award, for my great skill in the last catagory. My inspiration and I recieved scrolls and carved decorative containers (I'll post photos soon). I believe best death went to the fighter who died, and whose inspiration then rushed onto the field, wept theatrically over his corpse, and then stabbed herself with his sword.

Sunday kicked off with a round-robin tourney with a London Masters format with a twist. What all that comes down to is that there are five general legal off-hand weapons you can use in An Tir rapier: your empty hand, a dagger, a buckler (shield), a baton (stick), and a cloak. Marshals have some leeway to allow fans, mugs, and so forth on a tournament by tournament basis. Round robin means each fighter has to fight every other fighter. London Masters means you have to use each off-hand weapon at least once. The twist was that we couldn't use the same off-hand weapon as our opponent in any given fight, nor the same one twice in a row. I did really well for me, especially given my limited experiance with the cloak and buckler forms, winning 9 out of my 23 fights. The two finalists did a best three out of five for the championship (each had won 21 out of their 23 fights, BTW).

My last tourney was the "Bear Claw" tournament (for fighters who have never won a championship). This was a double-elimination, and sadly I lost my first two fights. I did get to be the 'buy' fighter for the odd person, however.

Still, overall I had a very good event. Despite no wins in the double-elimination tournaments I did very well in the round robin, and any tournament you get an award in is a good one.

Reality Twist

Yesterday in the bathroom at work there was a row of sinks, and over each sink there was a mirror. In between the mirrors were paper towel dispensers.

Today the paper towel dispensers are over the sinks, and the mirrors are in between them.

Who, when, why?

Morning Commute

Today, for the first time since I started working for Boeing, it took me over an hour to get to work.

Note to self: start leaving earlier in the morning.

The True Measure of the TSA

Well folks, for anyone who had any doubts about the utility of the TSA, you can forget it.

Bad enough that over half of their own in-house testing succeeds in getting simulated explosives and weapons components through security.

Bad enough that the FAA's Red Team has a success rate of over 90% with real and simulated weapons and explosives.

But at least these are experts who are deliberately targeting the system's weak points. The system works just fine against amateurs, right?

Well, apparently, not so much.

CNN reports that a guy went through security at Ronald Reagan Airport near DC with a loaded firearm that he had forgotten he had. When he remembered, he went back to the checkpoint to report it (and was arrested). Perhaps the TSA agents were too busy making sure he didn't have a bottle of water, or a 6-once bottle of shampoo.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/01/23/airport.gun/index.html

Seriously, folks, what good is our airport security? They can't stop their own in-house inspectors. They can't stop the FAA Red Team. They can't prevent someone from ACCIDENTALLY bringing a firearm on board. No security is ever perfect, but is there any evidence that the TSA has even mildly inconvenienced any terrorists? This guy wasn't a terrorist, but if he had been... well, he'd have gotten on the plane with a sidearm. Probably not the end of the world in this day and age, where the odds are much better of him getting mobbed by the other passengers if he tried anything, and with a fairly good door between him and the cockpit. Of course by that argument no one should have a problem with me bringing a pocket knife aboard.

Yes, terrorists have been stopped. Exclusively, as far as I know, by intelligence work (informers, the infamous 'technical means', etc.), NOT by checkpoint security.

They're too busy taking away my 1.5 quart plastic bag with five 3oz personal care items in it (yes, they did).

Wikipedia

Have you ever looked something up on wikipedia? Do you consider it a reliable source in general, or just for some specific things, or not at all?

I have found that for some things that I used to just google, I now search on wikipedia directly instead. I do not consider it a definitive source of anything, but I do consider it a valid resource for things that are not generally considered debatable. For example, if I want to know the land area of North America, I'll look there.

I've also found it fascinating to see some of the arguements people have on the "talk" pages; I have to wonder if some of these people represent large factions that actually believe what they are saying, or are just the lunatic fringe I devoutly hope they are. The capacity of human beings for self-delusion, ignorance, and paranoia amazes me.

Gridley's Starting Stats

For anyone who's curious...

Gridley of Pelor
Human NG Cleric 1 (Pelor, Healing, Sun)
STR 10 +0
DEX 16 +3
CON 17 +3
INT 14 +2
WIS 17 +3
CHA 10 +0
HP 11
Init +3
AC 17 (Studded Leather Armor, Light Wooden Shield w/Holy Symbol of Pelor)
F/R/W +5/+3/+5
Combat Casting, Endurance
Concentration +7, Diplomacy +4, Heal +7, Knowledge (Religion) +6, Spellcraft +6
Speaks Common, Celestial, Draconic
Age 23 years, Height 5'10", Weight 180lbs, Hair: Brown, Eyes: Grey, Left Handed
Weapons: Sling +3 (1d4, 50'), Light Mace +0 (1d6), Dagger +0 (1d4)
Gear: explorer's outfit, belt pouch, 5 sling bullets, signal whistle, scroll case, Scroll: Cure Light Wounds (1st) x3, caltrops, backpack, bedroll, candle x5, chalk x2, cleric's vestmants, flint and steel, ration x7, soap, torch x2, waterskin, winter blanket.
Normal spells/day: (0th): Create Water, Detect Magic, Light; (1st): Cure Light Wounds (D), Bless, Magic Stone

1,000

As of the end of today, I have worked a total of 1,000 hours of overtime for Boeing. I have also done 4,624 hours of regular work time, and had 552 hours of paid time off (sick, holiday, vacation). The PTO has been about one half holiday, one quarter sick leave, and one quarter vacation.

Our First Fight

An account of the journeys of Gridley of Pelor.

(Historical note: Gridley was a somewhat erratic narrator, and frequently compresses the proper names of places and individuals. This has made identifying the locations and persons in his narrative a hit-or-miss proposition. The publisher has chosen to leave this narrative as it was written, including reproducing the effect of the various burns, bloodstains, and torn pages as best as possible. The reader may consult the analysis at the end for further information.)

May the Sun shine upon all those to whom these words come.

Call me Gridley, for I claim no other name. Ever since I was a young child, I have felt that it was my calling to bring light to dark places, whether they be dark places of the flesh, or of the mind. I have worshipped the Shining One since my first devotions at the age of four. Sensing my keenness, my parents apprecticed me to the local cleric, who confirmed me in my office as a Least Spark when I came of age. I was eager to show the Light beyond the places I knew, and so I set my shadow behind me and walked forth alone into the Sun.

Pelor's guidance assured that I did not remain alone for long. I arrived at the nearby town of Bf. to find that five other adventurers had recently arrived. A halfling told us that several children had been kidnapped from a village not far from here, and gave us directions. What could be a more worthy task? My new companions and I set out that same night. I confess that having my fingers and weapons peace-bound and finding the local temple of Pelor to be of little help had shaken my confidence, but the Sun moves as it will, and the brightest light can be hidden by clouds.

The five who set out with me were:

Baast, a Dwarf Fighter and a sturdy reliable sort.

Kieros, a Human Warlock with perhaps too much fondness for drink.

Marclar, a Human Wizard with perhaps too much fondness for women.

Thistle, a Gnome Rogue with a keen mind but a short stature.

Yasir, a Human Bard of questionable veractiy.

While a rather motley crew, I could see at once that our collective weaknesses would be balanced by our strengths, if only we could be given a guiding light.

Two nights out from town, while Baast and I were on watch, we were attacked by what seemed to be four animated blackberry bushes (OOC: The trees be attackin'! Run fer yer lives!). Basst's sharp hearing and darkvision gave us warning, and we rose to meet the challenge with ease, sustaining no injury in the battle itself, though my armor was scratched badly. Marclar, however, felt the need to keep a sample of the bushes, and was burned by the sap.

Two days later we reached Oak., and went to the house of the merchant we had been told to seek. We found much cloaked in shadow, for we found an old lady who claimed to be both servant and master, sent us to look for rings which could only be removed after death, but removed her own ring to show their likeness. Whose house was that of a wealthy merchant who traded across the sea, but was itself far from any large body of water. The townspeople seemed not to hear our questions about the strangeness of this, and we agreed that it was best to set out immediately rather than stay in town. I prayed briefly at a shrine to Pelor, and quietly checked for any consecration of the site, unsure if I should expect any or not, and finding none. Has a shadow fallen across this whole town? And what is the shape of it? I hope I have cast a small doubt into the minds of the decievers, for I suggested that we would be meeting others. (OOC: The purpose of this year's expedition is to look for last year's expedition...)

As the Shining One says: to learn the shape of a shadow, you must step outside of it. We followed the path of the 'children' who we learned at the inn might be as much as 40 years old, and missing for a month already. A party of four, led by a paladin with a magic sword, had gone to seek the Sunless Citadel, truly an ominous name for one such as I who follows the Sun itself.

Two days later we reached a great crack in the ground, and presuming this to be the Sunless Citadel, prepared to venture down into darkness.

Sushi

When did I get addicted to sushi? How did I get addicted to sushi? Why am I addicted to sushi?

It is pretty far from my normal preferences, after all. Granted, I'm in a good part of the country for sushi, especially salmon, which is one of the fishes I like.

Last night I had a sushi feast - four rolls. For me, that's a lot of food in one meal. I had one California roll (a staple of mine), a Seattle Roll, a Washington Roll, and a Rainbow Roll. Yes, I know some of those are glorified California rolls themselves. So my addiction is really fairly narrow - it remains an addiction.

I don't like miso (sp?) soup. I don't like cooked fish (I tried recently - no dice). I like crab meat, though. I don't like uncooked cheese, and in most cases prefer my vegtables cooked to raw. What is the appeal those little bundles of rice and fish hold for me?

OK, sushi is fairly healthy (assuming it is prepared right). While it is somewhat expensive, I'm hardly in desparate financial straights. Also, I don't go out for sushi very often.

Do you like sushi? Do you know why?

Does this election feel different?

Does this presidential election feel different to you? It does to me.

Perhaps, of course, this is my relative inexperiance in elections. After all, every time I've been able to vote for president there's been a Clinton or a Bush on the ballot. Once more, this should be worrying to people, but doesn't seem to be a strike against Hillary for some reason. Heck, the majority of my life has been with a Bush or a Clinton as president. I'm getting kindof fed up with it, in fact.

I guess I've known ever since I first thought about the fact that we've only ever had white males as president that inevitably the first non-(white male) to run would have partisans who called anyone running against them a racist/sexist. I'm just surprised it started this quickly, and before the nominees had even been chosen.

Perhaps it is my lingering regret that I no longer live in a swing state; it is a lot harder to convince myself that my vote matters when I look at Washington's voting record. In a way, of course, it gives me a certain freedom; I can vote for someone I'd actually like to win, rather than trying to get the lesser of two evils into office.

I think a large part of it, though, is that my awareness of issues, and the danger of putting the wrong person in the Oval Office, has grown greatly over the past few years. A lot of my political opinions have solidified in the last few years, and this time around I've done enough poking into candidate platforms early on that I'm seriously worried about a few of them.

You know what I'd really like to see? I'd like to see both parties fracture, and four candidates run - two 'republicans' and two 'democrats', say. It would throw every state up for grabs in the electoral math, and give the voters some real options on issues, character, and so forth. With several major contenders in each party (I'm used to seeing a forgone conclusion in at least one party - again, maybe that's just my memory or my limited experiance), I think it might be possible. Not likely, I admit, but possible.

Furniture, Gaming, and Blasts from the Past

Yesterday I spent several hours hauling furniture around the house, in the process causing several trivial injuries and nearly crushing myself at least twice.

I now, however, have a workbench/desk in the garage (used to be the computer desk; got a new computer desk). I'm rather excited about this; I haven't had a workbench since... the last time I lived in the suburbs. OK, the pattern continues. This one is in the garage instead of the basement (not that my house has a basement, grumble, #!@#^! high water table, grumble), and of course isn't next to my father's workbench, but there's some emotional kinship even so.

Getting shelves into place has enabled quite a bit of unpacking, and I have once again revised upward how long it will take to cycle all the cardboard through the once-every-two-weeks recycling pickup.

We had the preliminary session of the new gaming group Sunday evening; two players short, but the rest of us worked out our characters and found out that we're apparently going to undertake a rescue mission first. The current party is a Warlock, a Bard, a dwarf Fighter, and a Cleric (me), with a probable Rogue and a probable Barbarian still to join. I flipped my character from being a Cleric of Heironeous to one of Pelor when the Paladin flipped to a Bard after the Ranger flipped to a Fighter - did anyone follow that? Well, that's how it happened.

We also played several hands of Car Wars (card game variant). I was victorious in the first hand, and the first eliminated in the second. Par for the course, I suppose. There was much hilarity and descriptions of spectators being killed by misses.

Today I got an email from a friend I haven't seen in years - it is even possible he'll read this post (hi there!), and found out that yet another person I know is getting married.

The End of an Era

Yesterday I turned in the keys for the old apartment.

I did my first "home improvement" job in the house; replacing a toggle switch with a flat swtich so I can put a bookcase in front of it.

This house is now my home.

To Live Like You Were Dying

"And I hope someday you get to have the chance, to live like you were dying."

I've aluded, several times, to the "Things I want to do before I die" list I have.

Prompted by a post on another blog, here it is in full.

1. Swim with dolphins.

2. Skydive.

3. See Earthrise (live, not via pictures or TV).

4. Climb a mountain.

5. Explore a D/S relationship (myself as the D), and learn where my limits are.

Overselling New Hampshire

Well, another blow against the remaining traces of my pride in New England.

Come on, what happened to Live Free or Die? You helped overthrow the monarchy, you ought to have a conditioned response to families trading the executive power back and forth.

Well, we can hope the rest of the country is thinking more clearly.

Gaming Again?

I may soon be joining a new gaming group. The DM has put out the call, and it looks like we may have a 6 player (plus DM) party.

He's doing stats by roll, which I haven't done in years. I was a little worried that my dice would hold their inactivity for the past several months against me, but I guess they had enjoyed their nap because I got quite good numbers.

I realize that anyone who doesn't game may:
A. Not believe that dice have personalities.
B. Not care about the fictional characters I create.

To point A I can only say: if you game long enough you will at some point comment that your dice like/dislike you. This applies to board games as well, though IME it takes longer to manifest itself.

To point B... well, you're probably in the majority. :-)

Anyway, I'm leaning towards a (1st level) human cleric named (as my characters almost always are) Gridley. Gridley is a cleric of Heironeous, War and Good domains. I visualize him as something like an AmeriCorp volunteer; except instead of building dams and things he's killing undead and orcs.

Favorite Christmas Song?

What's your favorite Christmas song?

For me it is a toss up between The Little Drummer Boy and The Carol of the Bells.

Generally I find the 'modern' variants that get played in department stores and malls to be highly annoying.

Underselling Iowa

Well, I think I owe Iowa an apology for any implied slur in my last post.

Thank you, Iowa, for your caucus results. Not perfect, mind you, but far better than I had hoped for.

I finally got the invitation for my housewarming party out - if you live near here or might be in the area and didn't get it, please forgive the oversight and send me your email address.

This has the added benefit of giving me a hard deadline for clearing away the Box Infestation. :-)

Trends and Patterns

Well, I'm back at work.

Despite all the chaos of moving and loosing my routine schedule over break, I don't seem to have missed any episodes of Grey's Anatomy; I guess they weren't as prepared for the writers' strike as they said they were (big surprise, right?).

Another thing hits home about living in suburbia; I am now in a carpool. I haven't been in one of those since... the last time I lived in suburbia.

It occurred to me today that the postal abbreviations for all the states I've lived in end in "A"; MA, PA, and WA to be precise. My next job may not be in Japan or Korea after all (increasing westward move extrapolation), it may be in California, Iowa, Virginia, Louisiana, or Georgia. Of course, in one of those I own an assault rifle, and in three I'm a "damn Yankee." Well, I suppose Japan wouldn't be much of a picnic either.

Of course, if I'd moved to Virginia instead of Washington, I could have continued the former-British-colonies trend, the "We are a Commonwealth, not a mere State" trend, and the "enjoys being a major player in revolutions and civil wars" trend.

All this was brought to mind today because I was reminded that there is a town near here called Arlington. There was also a town with the same name nearby in Massachusetts, and there was a neighborhood in Pittsburgh.

So, I am officially adding Arlington to the list of people, places, and things stalking me.

Happy New Year!

Well, I got less done this vacation then I expected; I blame the high addictiveness level of Galactic Civilizations (which is a really great game, BTW).

Still, bought more bookshelves, cleaned out the apartment (except for trash), unpacked and organized somewhat.

I now own what I think is my first Craftsman tool; a cordless drill.

More and more, living in the suburbs again is making me realize how much I wish more people I know lived nearby. Especially a few people that I always enjoy spending time with, but (like everyone) I can't keep up with long distance.

This year I'm resolving to exercise more; I've set a schedule for myself and I've already started.

May your new year bring you new dreams.