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Below are the most recent 25 friends' journal entries.

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    Sunday, November 22nd, 2009
    copperbadge 5:07p
    Chapter eight of Valet of Anize is up! Orphans, meteorites, and mine mysteries abound. You can find it here. Feedback welcome, as always!

    btw, someone -- god, I've lost track of who, if it was you please tell me so I can credit you -- linked me to an article about organogenesis, which seems to imply that Carry's nuskin bandage may not be far off in our future.

    Fascinating stuff, though I can't avoid thinking of it as wearing foreskins.
    copperbadge 12:53p
    MY MUM SENT ME PEAPOD.

    She is the best mother I have! :D



    Sourdough bread, olive oil, apples, a GIGANTIC TURKEY BREAST, my favourite hibiscus tea, stuffing, dalmatia fig spread (omg nom), two small pumpkins, and cookies.

    Guys, I'm going to brine the hell out of that turkey breast. I can buy the cooler tomorrow and put the turkey in on Wednesday and cook it on Thursday. And then eat leftover turkey for the REST OF MY LIFE. I can even make apple-onion stuffing!

    Also, I love the Jamaica Tease Co. Hibiscus Tea, but I find them very weird. The "Jamaica Tease" phrase is branded everywhere on the bottle, but if you read the label or go to the website they are very proud of the fact that they use only the finest Mexican hibiscus tea.

    Maybe they get it from, you know, Jamaican Mexico? Like the Dutch East Indies.

    The pot from Jamaican Mexico must be amazing.
    copperbadge 11:28a
    My leg feels better this morning! And miraculously I am not hung over from last night. (Uh, Jean, I totally meant to email you but then I fell asleep. :/ )

    So I just made the MOST DELICIOUS OMELETTE EVER.

    Here's how you do it:

    Fry some bacon and set the bacon aside. (This is the traditional start of every southern recipe ever.)

    Into the bacon fat put chopped up leftover french fries and onion straws (like onion rings, only not rings) from last night's meal.

    Fry until crispy!

    Add two beaten eggs. Cook. Flip! Sprinkle with cheese and then cook some more.

    Consider briefly photographing it for your blog before being so enticed by the omelette that you go NOM NOM NOM instead. With bacon.

    The recipes tag on this post is very much in airquotes. "Recipes".
    Saturday, November 21st, 2009
    copperbadge 10:34p
    R came over this evening. I give you your nightly quote:

    R: Oh, so, you gotta see these shoes I bought from this guy.
    Sam: Fancy shoes?
    R: So fancy.
    Sam: Wait, who is 'this guy'? Like, a guy at a department store? Or, ahahaha, some guy on the street?
    R: YOU LAUGH BUT HE SOLD ME SOME GREAT SHOES.
    Sam: You bought shoes from a random dude on the street?
    R: And they are the finest footwear I have ever acquired. So, it was two in the morning, right --
    Sam: You bought shoes from a random dude on a street at two in the morning.
    R: HE WAS A SHOE-SHINE!

    Apparently they're really nice shoes.
    copperbadge 5:32p
    Either my flex spending account thinks I'm trying to rip them off, or they're trying to rip me off.

    Maybe they think no one person can sustain this much injury in a year. It's baffling sometimes, truly.

    For those of you outside the States -- health insurance, which I pay for every month, pays 80% of all my doctor bills. I have to pay the other 20%. To make up the difference, my company offers a "flex card" which is a credit card where a fixed amount is taken out of your paycheck pre-taxes and put on the card to pay for medical expenses. You tell them yearly how much money you want on the card, and they take a little each month to make up that amount, even though you get all that money on the card immediately.

    Yes. Welcome to the reason we long for socialised medicine.

    Anyway, I carry $600 on my flex spending account, which I've been using to pay for medical treatment for a broken leg, chiropractic adjustments, a sinus infection, and various over-the-counter painkillers and band-aids and such.

    Every month, now, my flex card kicks a letter out to me saying JUSTIFY YOUR EXPENDITURES, SEND US RECIEPTS. It's not supposed to do this; the only time this is supposed to happen is if it's something hinkey, like you bought a Nintendo on your flex account or something.

    Instead, my letter has WHAT ABOUT THIS BILL FROM NORTHWESTERN MEDICAL CENTER printed on the request. What the fuck do they think I'm buying at a MEDICAL CENTER if not MEDICAL TREATMENT? Prostitutes? Can I get those at a hospital? Maybe they think my theraputic massages for the left arm I CAN'T MOVE have a happy ending or something.

    Relatedly, I decided to go for a walk today and now I can't put any weight on my left leg. I've had it elevated and I'm applying ice on and off, but if it's still nonfunctional tomorrow it's back to the Immediate Care centre for me tomorrow.

    Argh.
    Friday, November 20th, 2009
    copperbadge 9:16a
    My mother has a theory, which is genius I think, that the worse the economy is at Christmas, the more lights and decorations people put up. My own anecdotal evidence gathered since the age of ten suggests this is mainly correct. It's some kind of reaction formation thing. "We have no money, so this is going to be the BEST, BRIGHTEST CHRISTMAS EVER!"

    Seriously, look around yourselves on December 18th. You'll see what I mean.

    I have a new theory that is related to this: when the economy tanks, television writers start KILLING EVERYONE. I suspect it has something to do with desperation to retain viewers as the ad money dries up and things get more competitive, making use of the link between profundity and death. Which does exist, but not nearly as intensely as most professional writers think it does (see: modernist theatre's relationship to the end-of-show suicide. Just because it worked for Chekhov* doesn't mean it works for everyone).

    At the end of the day, if one is searching for meaning in modern life -- meaning and ratings -- then death's not a bad way to go. That's crass to say aloud, but it's also true. And there's nothing inherently wrong with an examination of death, self-sacrifice, and our place in the world.

    But seriously now.

    The debate goes back and forth endlessly about the meaning or lack thereof in a given death on a given show, and if someone does find beauty and meaning in death, that's okay. I understand, better than I used to, why people do; if not emotionally, then at least intellectually. My theory isn't about whether a given character's death is profound or stupid.

    It's just that there's been so much death on so many of my shows that I'm afraid to turn on the television. Meaningful or not, I'm tired of it. I'm scared next Tuesday Abby's going to get shot. I feel like I can't watch TV until unemployment drops back below 8%.

    So until then I'll just be over here with my Stranger Than Fiction DVD.

    * At the end of The Sea Gull, which culminates in an offstage suicide, the audience in Moscow was silent for a full minute. Chekhov thought he was ruined; he thought the play had tanked. It turned out, nobody could gather their wits enough to applaud, at first. This is an epic legend, in theatrical circles.
    Thursday, November 19th, 2009
    copperbadge 7:33p
    I'm bendy again!

    Say what you like about chiropractors, and I don't deny a lot of it, but I can bend over without looking like an old man for the first time in weeks. My wii fit trainer approves. He didn't even yell at me when I fell over during the Sun Salute. Which is a hard yoga pose to fall over during. But the point is I fell over because I'm a klutz, not because I had no lower-back mobility.

    Also I have nasal spray that the doctor recommended, but I've never really used nasal spray before. Is it supposed to drip back out? I feel like my brains are falling out my nose when I use it.

    HI. I'M SAM STARBUCK, BUT YOU CAN CALL ME MR. OVERSHARE.
    Wednesday, November 18th, 2009
    copperbadge 7:34p
    And then the chiropractor tried to kill me.

    For real, I'm typing this with the last ounce of muscle strength left in my body. She worked me over for half an hour. She found every painful part of my body and PRESSED ON IT.

    She thinks my shoulder pain from last week is actually some ribs that are "poking out" which I figure, that can't be good. So she's going to poke them back in, I guess.

    My body hates me. The feeling is mutual.
    copperbadge 2:21p
    I am back from the doctor's office! I HAVE A DOCTOR. Not the Doctor, but a pretty good substitute. That was easier than I thought.

    Dr. K gave me a specific amount of Vitamin D/Calcium to take every day, told me to buy saline nasal spray, took four vials of blood for various other issues, and said I'd hear from her in a week or two.

    She was also very impressed with my ability to break myself, and gave me a neurological exam. All my neurologues are in order! So that's good.

    Before I forget, and I should have recc'd this when linking to the GF cookbook the other day, [info]ecaterin has assembled a Gluten-Free Recipe Archive with articles, recipes, and tips for GF living. She tells me she'll be updating it as she finds new info, so. Good resource!

    That's all I got. That and a bandaid that says "OUCH" on it for my arm.
    copperbadge 8:32a
    Much as I love you guys, when it comes to suggestions on what to use that oil from the fried game hen for, my mother has you all beat cold.

    She linked me to A Deep Fried Thanksgiving this morning. Skip the blithering article, which is a long self-involved introduction, and scroll straight to the recipes.

    Deep fried stuffing balls.

    (Also: she shoulda soaked her sweet potato chips in cold water before frying. Gets the excess starch out.)
    Tuesday, November 17th, 2009
    copperbadge 10:51p
    2400 words on VoA tonight! \o/

    Never mind that a significant chunk of that was the introduction of a character I didn't know would exist until he did. I'm not worried! He will have a role to play in the story.

    As much as I love the story and the worldbuilding, VoA is undoubtedly my problem child. Every single plot advancement is a struggle; writing scenes can be hard, but usually not quite this hard. It's getting easier as I settle further into the story and hammer out the details, but damn. Carry isn't making it easy on me. Then again, Carry wouldn't...
    copperbadge 8:05p
    OH YES

    ARE YOU READY FOR THREE THINGS

    Not counting the TARDIS Awesome of earlier, which I will attempt to transcribe after Thing Three.

    Spoilers for NCIS 7.08, ( Power Down )

    3a. Gibbs has a full on survival kit in his bag in case he ends up in 1902. IT COULD HAPPEN. IF THE TARDIS COMES FOR HIM. Because he would make the most awesome Companion ever but only if he got to take Abby and please god someone stop me writing it.
    copperbadge 7:30p
    IT COULDN'T WAIT

    MCGEE JUST REFERENCED DOCTOR WHO

    TERMINAL CROSSOVER OF RIDICULOUS FANDOMS

    OUT OF CHEESE ERROR, PLZ REBOOT TELEVERSE

    *laughs and laughs and laughs*
    copperbadge 11:25a
    I know you guys worry about me when I declare my intention to fry things, but I want you to know that I only ever hurt myself when I'm not paying attention. Granted, I'm not paying attention like, 80% of the time, but when I'm using fire and hot oil I always pay attention.

    (And after the "index finger incident", also when I use knives.)

    Which is why these videos? Will never happen to me.

    I think the fire-safety one is my favourite; I like the captions. "Another disaster occurs!"

    Motto of my life, man.
    Monday, November 16th, 2009
    copperbadge 7:01p
    Considering I haven't written any on this today, I feel guilty posting, but I've been meaning to post for like three days, so.

    Chapter seven of Valet of Anize is up! You can find it here.

    Conspiracies, wank, and meteor showers!
    copperbadge 6:10p
    All ye who live gluten free, I have a book for you: Eat Well Live Well With Gluten Intolerance. [info]iamshadow scanned it for me to pass on to my mum, and I thought I'd share it with all of you while I'm at it, because I know we have at least a few who must Avoid The Wheat in the Cafe.

    Today was the usual hectic Monday, with the added complication of BossBoss being insane. But he did invite me to a weekend party to watch the Festival of Lights, which is this Saturday, so that's nice. Don't know if I'm going to go yet, but it's very informal, we're just having pizza at work and watching from the conference room.

    And now I'm home making dinner and hiding from the world.
    Sunday, November 15th, 2009
    copperbadge 8:23p
    Time for Sam's Three Things About Doctor Who!

    Spoilers within for ( The Waters Of Mars )

    3a. THEIR HANDS. THEY WERE LIKE BLADES. ALL THEIR HANDS WERE LIKE BLADES! *dying*
    copperbadge 2:40p
    SO, THEN, I FRIED A GAME HEN.

    If you're reading this on Dreamwidth or IJ or JF, you can check out the photo at my LJ. It went beautifully: I washed and VERY THOROUGHLY DRIED the chicken, then left it to dry for a little while as I set up the dutch oven with about 64oz of peanut oil. While the oil was heating, I dredged the chicken in flour and spices, patted off the excess, stuffed two cloves of garlic in the cavity, and tied the legs together (kinky) with kitchen twine.

    I tied the other end of the kitchen twine to the handle of a large wooden spoon and, when the oil was at 350, I lowered the chicken carefully into it. There were no explosions or anything, but I didn't quite put enough oil in, so the breast stuck out a little. I fixed this by frying for eight minutes on one side, then using the handy string and carefully flipping it to fry for eight minutes on the other side. When the thigh-thermometer (thighmometer!) read 170F, I took the chicken out and set it out to drain. It probably could have used another minute or two, but on the other hand the breast meat is super-succulent and it might have dried out.

    OM NOM CRISPY CHICKEN.

    Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to do with 64oz of slightly-used peanut oil.
    copperbadge 12:00p
    Having spent about an hour pushing buttons and testing limits in Google Wave, I would like to register my total lack of enthusiasm.

    Seriously, it's like they took Gmail, Googledocs, and Gchat, smashed them together, picked out all the useful parts, and THREW THEM AWAY. Then bred the result with a messageboard circa 2002.

    ( Initial review )

    Look, I know I'm a luddite. I don't embrace new technology. I barely allow it to give me a peck on the cheek. But when I try out new technology I try to be fair about its odds of being useful to me, and Google Wave appears to be the most useless app for my needs ever invented. That's not to say some people won't find it useful and helpful, but for what I need it to do, it fails badly. It lacks a lot of the simple utility that has made Gmail so ubiquitous. Its comment threading function is not as efficient as Facebook's, its posting function isn't as accessible as LiveJournal's, and its utility as a chat program is nonexistent. Even as a tool for betareading fic, it's not as good as Googledocs.

    Wave is in beta, early beta, so I suspect it has a long way to go. I documented all these issues in a blip I made, which some other people have commented on with their own issues, and I would love to send this blip to the people who are working on Wave. Except, OH WAIT, THERE'S NO WAY TO DO THAT. I can't forward it as an email, I can't add them since they're not in my contacts, and I can't export the blip to a file to send to them.

    I love Google, and Gmail, and the philosophy of simplicity that Google normally espouses. I don't know how Google Wave got past that philosophy, because it's clunky and complicated and beneath Google's usual standard.
    Saturday, November 14th, 2009
    copperbadge 8:41p
    R came over tonight to eat my homemade pizza and watch Wheel, and catch me up on life. This is how it went:

    R: I had a really good date last night.
    Sam: Yeah? Who is she?
    R: She works at Kingston Mines.
    Sam: Hmm. You have to stop dating bartenders.
    R: No, but she's not like that! She only works part time, she's a student.
    Sam: What's she study?
    R: Uh, what's the word. It's like. Holtastic?
    Sam: Holistic? Like, holistic medicine?
    R: Yeah! Herbs and shit. She's a Pagan.

    Now, I have nothing at all against Pagans, I have been one in my time, but R usually dates messed-up blues fans who drink too much and have unmannered dogs. I couldn't imagine what he would see in a woman studying holistic medicine as a vocation. It's just not something I can easily grasp. So I'm thinking all this and I was about to ask "So what brought you two together?" in order to find out, and I got as far as inhaling to say it before he said:

    R: AND she's a PILATES instructor!

    And all was revealed.

    Then, unsatisfied with the pizza, we ate all the hamburgers in the greater Chicago area (which I cooked, because I have mastered the hamburger) and watched Notre Dame get their asses kicked by Pittsburg.

    I feel bad for him, he's in a rough spot financially right now, so I'm glad he got a good meal and a little time to unwind. And I discovered that R, who I have always seen as a sort of all-knowing Casanova, thinks he's fucked up about relationships. Which is funny and kind of awful, because this is how he put it:

    "I mean, all the guys I know are hound dogs, they see a woman they think is hot and the first thing they think is how they can take her home that night, and I'm just not into it. All mine go badly when I try. I want to, you know, know who she is...I'm really fucked up about sex. I want to have a family, that's fucked up, huh?"

    Yeah, R. Wanting to know a little bit about someone before you fuck them is totally weird. Having an emotional connection with a woman before you put it in? Using dating to try and find a life-mate? What the hell is wrong with you?

    So I gave him a pep talk about how that's not weird, it's just that he thinks it is because he spends too much time with musicians, and gave him a tupperware container of food, and sent him on his way.

    If I could get him a nice girlfriend for Christmas, I would, but they don't sell Positive Relationships at Target. Maybe this Holistic Bartender will turn out better than the fine array of CRAZY PEOPLE he has dated in the past.
    copperbadge 12:15p
    I have returned from my ERRAND-TUR, which is not as exciting as an ADVENTUR but more efficient.

    I went to the hardware store and bought my DIY Serial Killer kit. Thence to the thrift store to drop off two bags of donations, the grocery store to buy more bread than God and get all annoyed when their CoinStar machine was broken, and finally the library, to drop off The Threesome Handbook (purely research; apparently the guy who plays Castiel on Supernatural, his wife wrote it, incidentally it is lolarious) and flirt with the cute librarian.

    And then I came home and collapsed.

    But I have lightbulbs, bread, juice, no more thriftstore clothing, nails, oh yeah and a fire extinguisher because this afternoon I am, DUN DUN DUN....frying an entire cornish game hen.

    ...maybe I should have bought burn cream.
    copperbadge 12:04p
    OH, CLASH OF THE TITANS.

    WHY MUST I WAIT FOR YOU, SWEET REMAKE?



    Don't get me wrong:

    1. I know just how it corrupts and destroys the ancient myths it's based on
    2. I love the original with all my soul, regardless
    3. I don't care that it's a remake, I CAN LOVE BOTH.

    I LOVE YOU CLASH OF THE TITANS, YOU AND YOUR AWESOME EXPLODING REMAKE. YOU ARE A STORY OF MY HEART. WITH SWORDS. AND CLAYMATION.

    FIND...AND FULFILL...YOUR DESTINY!
    Friday, November 13th, 2009
    copperbadge 10:54p
    The lightbulb in my kitchen, the five-year long-life lightbulb, burned out about six months after I bought it.

    I wanted some toast so, after ascertaining that tightening it wasn't the issue, I got a hand-held LED lamp I use in emergencies, carried it into the kitchen, and watched it flicker and die.

    Ergo, at the hardware store tomorrow I need to buy:

    1/2" nails for hanging pictures
    Duct tape, 'cause I'm out
    Zipties for some cords I need to tidy up
    A new lightbulb
    AND SOME ROCK SALT, JUST IN CASE MY KITCHEN IS POSSESSED.

    They're going to think I'm either a mad scientist or a serial killer.
    copperbadge 12:43p
    I have watched the John Barrowman Single Ladies video probably twenty times since Foxy linked me to it, and have yet to tire of it. Possibly because I love the original song and vid as well.

    I spent most of the morning editing and typesetting the Big Book Of Awesome for work, including adding a lot of stuff that wasn't there before. The book's getting passed around to all the admins for advice, but I have stepped into the de-facto role of artistic director and veto'd some of their suggestions as impractical or redundant.

    A few more admins have requested my Unofficial Directory, which is a revision I do every time that the "official" staff directory comes out, because our official directory is ugly and inefficient. I'm proud that my bootlegging is popular enough to be passed around secretly by the cabal of office ninjas who ultimately run this company. I welcome new initiates to The Secret Gnostic Directocrypha of Sam, Prophet of the Spreadsheet.

    Cept nobody gets the spreadsheet version. They get PDFs. This kind of power is best handled by experienced masters only.
    Thursday, November 12th, 2009
    copperbadge 9:57p
    Well, I'm fairly impressed with myself. I'm not officially doing NaNo, but I am using it as motivation, and it's working pretty well. My goal was a thousand words a day, which won't get me to 50k in thirty days but is a realistic goal for me. In the last four days I've averaged 1200 words a day, which added to the less-than-impressive totals from earlier in the month still puts me at 1300 words written in 12 days.

    I am supremely amused at myself, as well. I had a brainstorm this evening, which led to Bart uncovering a reason someone might be motivated to attack Leigh Anizin:

    Internet wank.

    An independent messageboard, run off a privately-owned server, completely unchecked but eminently legal nonetheless. Dedicated to "critical attention" focused on the Silence.

    Dr. Anizin wasn't difficult to pick out from the crowd, though her commentary was more...acerbic than I was used to on a day-to-day basis. Bordering on hostile, in places, though the responses were similarly themed on the lines of highly-intelligent playground-name-calling.

    Because let's face it: a couple of hundred years in the future and cut off from all extraplanetary communication, we're still going to find ways to call each other dickheads on the internet. :D
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