Dear Google: I Like It. Keep That Shit Up.

In case you haven't seen her recent post, The Bloggess did an excellently fun TBT yesterday. http://thebloggess.com/2014/05/throwback-thursday-google-knows-me-a-little-too-well/


And because it IS hilarious, I looked up "Jess" on Googlism this morning.

Of the long list of random shit, my favorites:

"Jess is the coolest girl in the world." Fucking duh, Google.

"Jess is trying to go back to a normal life." Unsuccessfully, by the way. And that's probably best.

"Jess is dying." Aren't we all?

"Jess is psycho gay goth fencing bitch" I beg to differ: I've never been goth during my Fencing Booth days at the MN Renaissance festival. I can be a bitch, psycho, and I do think women are super cool, though.

"Jess is hot and bad boys are more fun anyway"  Seems somewhat at odds with the last one, but ok

"Jess is like the little devious trouble" Again, Duh.

And my ultimate favorite:
"Jess is an Australian kelpie." Fuck yeah!

In other news, I'd like to think Wolverine has apparently visited the elevator in the parking garage at work. However, due to my recent viewing of Hugh Jackman's most excellent butt X-Men: Days of Future Past, I can categorically say Wolverine would leave 3 claw marks on the wall, NOT four.

WHAT THE FUCK HAS BEEN IN THE WORK ELEVATOR? 

Bacon Fanatics: Gird Your Pork Product. I've had enough.

Sigh.

I get it. I'm as big a fan of tasty breakfast meats as the next person, and I do love me some crispy crispy bacon on a burger.

But seriously? It's time to fucking stop.

Tactical Bacon - nasty limp bacon coiled in a can like a tapeworm ready to strike. I've seen it. I've tried it. I nearly vomited...and sadly this is shit that once WAS bacon.

Calorie-less Bacon Mist? What the HELL is this, some sick version of e-cigs for dieters?

Bacon Toiletries - Because what, you can't just eat (or snort) bacon, you have to stink like bacon all day? I shudder at the thought of bacon toothpaste.

And perhaps the most horrifying of all, Bacon Lube. Because gee...that's exactly the flavor (and stench) I want on *ahem* adult time. There's a big goddamn difference between bacon and sausage, after all...

Look, bacon is fucking awesome for breakfast, on sammiches, crumbled in salads, wrapped around a beef tenderloin or meatloaf, hell it's even good dipped in chocolate  (I know it's weird, but seriously tasty stuff!).

This bacon fanaticism, though...it's just like the zombie craze lately: fun when it started, but now it's just annoying. I mean, you had the super cool Resident Evil zombies, and the 28 Days rage-filled zombies, and (I suppose) the Shambling Rot zombies. But at some point it's the same fucking story, and overexposure in the market dilutes the horror.

Hey, it's the same with vampires...the dilution of that terror gave us SPARKLING, limp, ineffectual creatures of the...well, of the twilight. Punny.

Bacon does not belong all limp and ineffectual in any form. Keep bacon crispy!

Call Me a Poser if You Like: Jane of All Geeks

This post rambles some. Feel free to ignore.

I am neither a true blooded geek nor a nerd, at least not the way either label is used in the current nerd culture. I'm not sorry for that at all, but it does occasionally cause some...hmm...awkward moments.

I was born the year Star Wars was released. Yes, I'm aware what age that makes me. Return of the Jedi was the second movie I ever saw in a theater, and I've been utterly hooked on science fiction and fantasy (arguably Star Wars has many elements of both genres, effectively melding the two into a cohesive combination of both the mystical and the scientific). Throw out titles of science fiction or fantasy movie from the '80's through today, and I've likely seen it. I adore losing myself in a good sword and sorcery tale, or harboring the terror of aliens after Ripley.

Books have always been even more important to my...hmm...let's call it "escapery". I read The Hobbit around age ten or eleven. I got into harder science fiction, oddly enough, through Anne McCaffrey's Pern series, which (while 100% fantasy after the first book) was based on a scientific expedition crashing on Pern and genetically developing the dragons for later generations. But while I'm a huge fantasy fan, I never read all the D&D books, or the Forgotten Realms series'. While I'm a huge sci-fi fan, I never read the really hard-core space novels. Why? Because they bored the shit out of me. Sigh.

I'm a dabbler. I'm honest about it: I love pieces and parts of all genres and sub-genres, but I'm an expert in none. I've read all of Tolkien's books, not just LOTR and The Hobbit, but the Lost Tales, Silmarillion, the Appendices...but I can't throw out quotes and get into arguments with people on the accuracy of the books vs the movies. I find space, science, fantasy, anime, games, movies, comics, books - (all aspects of subjects that got me bullied for being a nerd in school) fascinating, but I'm not obsessed with any of them. I started reading my first comic series when I was 36. I don't know (or care about, really) the differences between the Marvel universe and the Marvel movies. I just like the Marvel characters.

My passion, where I store the most knowledge and put my energy into learning, is Mythology. All mythology, all religions. Even fictional mythologies, like those in games or comics. That makes me somewhat out of place in, say, anime/sci-fi/fantasy conventions or in groups of gamers and cosplayers. I'm at a distinct disadvantage because I'm not an obsessed expert in anything else, just a a casual dabbler with various degrees of random fact recall...which leads to scoffing "you're not a REAL nerd/gamer/fan/geek" snarky comments.

How fucking tiresome.

In about a year, I'm going to Star Wars Celebration in California. We bought tickets a year ago for this, and we're going with a group of friends who are possibly MUCH bigger fans than I am. I can get into a "Han shot first" argument with the best of 'em, but I haven't read all the extended universe material or played all the games. I know every line of all six movies, but I haven't seen all of the Clone Wars series. I don't have SW tattoos or know every name of all of the Skywalker line. I expect to be wowed by the level of fandom while I'm there.

Husband and the friends I'm going with are all excited to cosplay, and I'm simply not quite as interested in that. Sure, it'd be fun to dress up, but I'm not willing to spend THOUSANDS on an outfit I'll wear one time. Ever. (To be fair, I said exactly the same thing about my wedding dress.) And I'm not willing to argue with the "you're not a REAL fan: that belt/robe/color/boot isn't accurate" assholes out there, either. Add to that the fact that I'm not crafty, at all (I can barely sew a button back on much less create a costume) and I'm just...blah about the whole thing. I love seeing what people can do in cosplay. I love seeing excellently made, and even beginner made, costumes done by people who are passionate about their art. Because costuming IS art.

I am not an artist.

So I'll work on losing weight and toning up so I can be some sort of sexy Sith at Celebration for a night, because the three of us planning costumes will have fun together doing it. But I'm planning on bringing comfy clothes to bum around and people watch for most of the convention, because THAT's the shit I like best. People are fucking fascinating creatures, particularly in a microcosm like a con.

Mythology is ALIVE at a convention: that's exciting as hell for me. Even if I'm only really able to quietly geek out to myself about it.

My Husband: The Great Sith Hunter...and other random weird.

A few random weirds (yes, I'm using that as a noun) from the week. These are in no particular order, and to be honest the sandpaper rubbing my throat and the golf ball lymph nodes in my neck are distracting me from a real post. It's time for more meds...and a nap.

Thanks to the fantastic odd people on social media, I found THIS, and I totally agree:

I maintain the middle alien looks rather jovial, and not angry at all. Then again, perhaps jovial due to his plans for world domination?

As unpacking continues, we've lost one of my favorite framed pictures (The Lady of Shalott) when the asshole dogs knocked it down and stepped on the glass, breaking it and the frame.

But Husband's (only slightly creepy) equivalent of heads-on-pikes have been positioned on the mantle. Where they should be, I suppose.

Who would DARE break into the home of a Vader-Decapitator?

 

One of the strip malls in our area has a sign for a "nite" club. If you look closely, the sign DIRECTLY beneath the bar is for AA. Irony. I am amused.

 

So, we paid off some big bills this week: both car payments and the IRS. I didn't really notice I'd used COMPLETELY appropriate Harry Potter stamps until after I'd addressed the envelopes, and then I giggled. A lot.

That would be Voldemort shooting Emperor-esque lightning bolts on the car payoff. I realized too late that it should've been on the IRS envelope. DAMMIT!

All Your Blinkers Are Useless Here.

Things I've learned since moving to Texas:

• I have an accent. I am amused. Ya. Youbetcha.
• Kolaches. Look them up: they are not a sneeze, despite what you may be thinking. Weird...but I'm planning to try the bacon/egg/cheese version.
• Someone explain to me WHAT THE FUCK SKITTERED across my bathroom floor at 3am? 3am is the fucking DEMON HOUR, people. Demons skittering across my bathroom floor.  Do you know how precarious a nearly-blind-without-her-glasses woman's position is at 3am, naked and desperately trying to balance on the toilet to keep feet from touching the floor without peeing on the seat? Obviously this will become a skill, as I fear further invasions by Legion. I still don't know what the hell that was. Husband says it was a doghair ball: I say if the doghair balls start moving like fucking spiders across the tile I'm moving the fuck out. (Yes, we have various types of bug killing things in the house all over...where the dogs can't get to them). I'm still creeped out.
• Blogger's spell check doesn't recognize the validity of the word "doghair" as a single word. I protest, and as such will leave it in. Also, "creeped" is a word, goddammit.
• Blinkers are the pantyhose of the automotive world: forgotten bits of the car's wardrobe relegated to the back of the drawer with lonely socks and unsexy underwear.
• Seven inches = one car length while in traffic. Be goddamned sure your brakes work before entering the breach.
• There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with u-turns that block three lanes of heavy traffic: you are SO much more important than anyone else on the road.
• Car insurance is expensive in a state where the philosophy is "if you don't get out of my way, it's no problem for me to get another dent when I shove you. With my car."
• Correspondingly, I'm terrified to drive the Mustang here, and I'm tempted to put her in storage until we move again.
• One of my new co-workers has this on her computer background. She says the stares make her feel like Putin and Catsputin are monitoring her work, and so she focuses more. Indeed.
• You know my superpower for receiving personal information from random strangers? It took 2 days at the new job. That's a new record for me.

In other news, Chewy had a few big adventures in the past week. The day Lowes delivered our new appliances (because no goddamned rental units in this state have a washer, dryer, or refrigerator...sigh), the delivery dudes accidentally didn't close the back gate all the way.

Chewy, being the savvy guard dog he's turned out to be, quickly discovered during his routine edge-of-the-yard fence check. Chewy is FAR more concerned with ensuring the yard is appropriately secure. He reminds me of the vultures in Disney's Robin Hood, actually. He barrels out the door and makes a determined beeline to the far right corner of the yard, complete with WAWOO to the dogs in the neighbors' yards, grumbling and growling at any new smell that's appeared since his last patrol. He'll say hello to all neighborhood animals to the right of us (dog and cat), behind us (at least one dog), and to the left of us (five dogs and a pool)...in order...every time we go outside. He's loving his new role.

So when the delivery dudes left the gate unlocked, of course he had to check out the FRONT yard. Luckily, Husband noticed he was gone and found him flirting with the neighbor on the right (dog/cat). She and Husband got to chatting, and Chewy disappeared again. Turns out, he'd sauntered his fuzzy ass right through her front door, wandered through her house to the back patio, and was making out with the cat.

I'm unclear on the cat's feelings about the matter. Perhaps it should consult with Catsputin.

Update: This is my 300th post. I AM SPARTA!!!

Moving proves feet can scream (so can that weird curve in your hand that connects your thumb to pointer finger).

I have a neat spot in my hand where the skin just decided "dude, I'm done with you" and split. Just...split. Thanks a lot, skin.

Also: you guys, someone found my blog by searching "do they share spouses at renaissance festivals."

I have a long list of things to blog about, including (but not limited to) the idiocy of the dogs and a whole discussion on the demonic THING I caught sight of in the bathroom at 3am...

But right now it's Sunday afternoon and I'm unpacked-out for the weekend, watching the most excellently babe-a-licious Thorin Oakenshield kick orc ass until Game of Thrones starts. All my cleverness died when the POD showed up yesterday and we spent the day in an exhausting flurry of "bring in all the things!" punctuated by "rest the hot, sweaty, gross bones for ten minutes."
I'll be more fun tomorrow. Tonight, there will be cake. And probably some sort of dinner...as soon as I get husband to go pick up something for dinner.

Oh...and...

GO WILD!

Hmm...I think not, Yahoo.

As per usual, the spam in my Yahoo mail is conflicting. 

1) OurTime.com dating service. Because apparently I'm old.* 

2) Notice to Appear...in court (with a single name signature and a zip file). Um, no. 

3) Hair Restoration offers. Because I'm bald and old, and going to court. 

4) Various life insurance policy offers from multiple insurance companies. Because clearly I'm in need of life insurance for my date. 

Maybe my legal counsel can argue me into a full head of hair before my old bones give out from the stress of a court date? 

*All my new co-workers in Houston have said they thought I was in my mid-late twenties when I started. Could they be lying? Sure...but I'm going with good genes and sticking with feeling (vainly) thrilled at apparently looking a decade younger than I am. 

Indeed, I'm not dead. I just feel that way.

In the past couple of weeks we've packed up all our shit, loaded two very anxious dogs into the back of the truck, and caravanned ourselves from Minnesota to Texas. Between the job I started the Monday after we got here and the living in-between-houses situation, I couldn't get my blog updated since we left.

But I have some random notes from the trip. Some might make sense.

1. Thor and Chewy haven't been on a trip that long, ever. Thor is excessively whiny, in case you didn't know. (Not you, Chris Hemsworth, I swear!) Therefore I drove about 1400 miles through a monstrous rainstorm AND dusty heat with the goddamned window open a crack. Because if I didn't, anxiety-pants-Shepherd cried.
2. Dear City of Burnsville: I actually can't run for city office. Please stop emailing me.
3. Oklahoma is beautiful. Seriously. I'd live there except for one key thing: ALL FUCKING RADIO IS COUNTRY. And not just current country or 90's country, which I rather enjoy. Oh no: 60's country. And bible radio. I was rather glad the window was open...so I couldn't hear the radio.
4. The Super8 motel just south of Kansas City was...well, we didn't pick up bedbugs so I guess it was ok.
5. I rear ended myself in Dallas.*
6. Armadillos really are speed bumps. Huh.
7. Dear Texas drivers: what. the. fuck. WHAT THE FUCK??
8. New job is super extra strict. **
9. Back Yard!! No scorpions, snakes or giant dog-eating spiders.
10. Yet.
11. Husband has been attempting to alienate all our friends and family in Minnesota by pointing out often that it's 80-90 degrees here. It snowed a couple times at home since we left. In the end of April.
12. Yes. MN is still home in my mind. I keep saying it and catching myself.
13. Popeye's doesn't have fucking mac & cheese here!! What the HELL??
14. Day 7. Still no stuff, but the appliances showed up so at least we can wash clothes.
15. Holy shit we have a lot of stuff...especially when it's all missing.
16. By virtue of changing our address on every goddamn bill...it's really time to get our finances in shape. Seriously. I do NOT want to change this many addresses ever again.
17. All will be well: we have cable and interwebz.

I imagine pictures and such will be loaded up sometime tomorrow. I'm excited to sleep in tomorrow.

On my air mattress.

* It's true: Husband drove my mustang, I drove the SUV. In order to keep up with the mustang with all the crazy-ass drivers who cut you off with NO space between the cars, I had to tailgate him. He stopped at a red light...I stopped too. Too late. Luckily, we were going nearly 0 mph and neither car is damaged at all. It was a horrible foreboding moment of the terrors of driving freeways in Dallas, though: I think I nearly died four times.

**No cell phones. No casual Friday. Long hours. No second jobs. No dating coworkers (well, that doesn't really apply to me, but you know). The first day was pretty culture-shocking after the past few years at more casual companies, but by Friday it has become mostly ok. Met some really cool people, made some friends.

It'll be fine.

I think.