Elizabeth Bear - Dust

It's often fun talking about books when I've been reading the author's own journal, including her links to reviews, good and bad. Thus I know Bear is a little bemused by the number of people who find this one of her best books.

Most accessible, certainly. It has, as she commented, an unusually straight-line narrative structure, unlike Blood and Iron, 'frinstance. The good guys are a bit easier to figure out. Although she does continue her long-running thread on the narrow difference between the good guys and the monsters - it's certainly in Carnival, Blood and Iron, and Shadow Unit, as well - there are no good guys who also commit genocide here, and the thread mainly comes out by the question of what and why the bad guys are bad.

And the two teenage girls at the heart of the story do break one's heart, and Perceval and Rien are both fabulous characters (And so far, I do like Tristen, too, although he does seem very much inside his own head, and Gavin.)

But I did find myself disappointed. Some of it was feeling like the book was, indeed, not as complex as it could or should be, though I suspect that, being very much the set-up book in a three book series, this is because the next book will introduce the yet more complexities it wants. But there also was a bit more veneer of distance here than I got in, say, A Companion to Wolves, or even Carnival. I liked Perceval and Rien, but I never felt as close to them as I could to Isolfr and his problems. (or Chaz and his though the complexities of Shadow Unit's extra structures and bonuses make that example a cheatin' one.)

Good book. Bear wins. Go ahead and read; you'll probably like.

But not my favourite.

Nothing by way of an answer yet on why SMD dropped me like a hot rock. Theories so far include:

- The guy from the temp agency suggested it was a speed-of-data-entry issue, because that's common. My objection is simply that since I had been at the office a total of 6 days, one of which was a conference, they hadn't time to make that absolute a judgement unless I was WAAAY behind, and even then, they should have talked to me first. Also, I am sure I was not waaay behind, or even behind at all - and if my progress at the task was insufficiently satisfying, I dare to suggest they have unrealistic expectations.

- Two different people have suggested someone's daughter needed a summer job. Objections: it seems out of character for the people I met at the workplace. Also, they wanted me until December.

- The probable incompatible hours in July were too incompatible. Again, though, an issue in the works, not resolved, not even overly discussed.

Whatever the problem, I *still* think there's soemthing off about the complete lack of discussion.

However, right now I'm much more interested in resolving the 2 days of pay that got lost in the mail... at least I know they cut and issued the cheque. I also KNOW it didn't get to me and my bank account. This makes me grumpy.

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More deer!

About three weeks ago, I came in to RCC to hear that the day before, a doe had given birth on the riverbanks - someplace where at least one person could get close enough to get pictures. This morning I came into the office, looked out the window, and the three of them, mom and 2 beautifully speckled fawns, were perfectly set up in an open grassy spot. They disappeared and reappeared a few times through the morning, including some no-S*** gamboling on the part of one fawn. Then, no doubt, lay down to nap in the summer swelter. Between that and being brought an Tim's Iced-capp for no particular reason whatsoever, it was a happy morning. Alas, the work is pretty steeep, so the afternoon was stress.

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The Challenge: - Post 3 things you've done in your lifetime that you don't think anybody else on your friends list has done. - See if anybody else responds with "I've done that." If they have, you need to add another! (2.b., 2.c., etc...) - Have your friends cut & paste this into their journal to see what unique things they've done in their life.

Let's see....

1) I appear in an episode of Sesame Street.
2) I have made earnest attempts to learn both Finnish and Welsh. (The Finnish lasted less time, but that's because we had a Welsh teacher. The Finnish only had a language tape and book.)
3) I helped drive sheep (badly; I was nine) in New Zealand. (At least one person on my F-list does this regularly in France, thus the caveat of location; in a country I don't even live in)

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The Big Read reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed.

1) Bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) Reprint this list in your own LJ so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them

( The list )

Today was a good day at SMD, the more hours-heavy of my new jobs. I made the bus that gets me there a minute late - not so good, but considering I got up an HOUR after my alarm was supposed to go off, I'll take it. I found out for sure I was doing pretty well on the rate I was told I should be accomplishing the work (So far, and accounting for my newness.) I didn't take any extra break time (Nor have I any other day; today I am guilty of going for five minutes to get tea in place of a 15 minute break and taking 40 minutes for a 45 minute lunch break. I've sometimes even taken the whole 45 minutes.) I did check my e-mail once, but the rest of my time on the internet was directly work-related, and mainly doing what I was told by my manager to do if I needed to find certain kinds of information. I played my music at a volume that might be audible to someone immediately inside the room, and didn't edit out the Nightwish, but there were no OTs or volunteers in their respective proximate areas, and the office next to mine was empty all day, so I think even the places I screwed up the harmony weren't offensive to anyone's ear. At the end of the day, I said "see you Wednesday" to all the people in my area, and even talked a bit about not being sure yet what was going on in July, but all sounded sure it would get straightened out. My direct Manager said a goodbye on the way out, and everyone waved in a friendly way.

Later, Colin phoned me at the friend's place I was at, to tell me the temp agency had called to say the SMD job is cancelled, and not to go in for the next shift.

WTF??

I am SO calling the agency tomorrow to find out what's going on. Because I guarantee you, nobody I was working with had a hint, and NOBODY has said I've done anything wrong. Sometimes the opposite.

I seem to have lost some of my endurance for reading for hours on the internet.

This does not surprise me; it has, after all, been a skill I have used less during the last while than I did, say, while working at the bakery, where I had, on average, 2 dead hours a day during busy times.

What's odd is I still find the subjects interesting; but I drift away faster in spite of this. 200 comments into a thread that is going well, active, non-repetitive, non-trolly, and about topics worth discussion, and my brain mutters, "enough."

And it's not any lack of ability to read on-screen; I can still handle that (admittedly, i do a fair bit of "Remember to periodically look up and refocus on something as far away as reasonable, ideally out a window or otherwise into natural light" - but i always did that to some extent and it's hardly like it's a *bad* thing.) As proven by, say, reading the entirety of Shadow Unit.

But today at this job is dead like a dead thing. Bleah. And I feel that at least if i'm looking at a computer monitor, I look more like I'm working than if I'm nose-deep in a book - though the person I'm replacing did in fact advise me to bring one, and Dust is in the backpack (Along with Tom Holt, whose book I decided fit perfectly into emergency book status and therefore traipses with me everywhere now, and even gets read sometimes.)

If I do drop it like a hot rock - and it's not out of the question - SMD is going well and I would be rather happy to have another day there. Although it will lead to swapping out batteries - and songs - on my MP3 player a *lot* more. (At SMD there are computer speakers on my desk. There is no computer, however - a monitor and a router of some kind only - so no CD slot, or alternate option for music-playing. I could very well justify a player with much more space if this keeps up. Eventually. Bookshelves first.)

Of course, this jump back to extra work has also meant my brains are boiled the majority of times when I come home. Watching movies or doing archery are ok. Creative work feels a little unlikely.

But I've done full time before. I will re-adapt soon. I hope.

Speaking of movies:

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

I liked, in a fluffy way. Cristina had made the remark that if he tries to wear the same clothes as he did in Raiders of the Lost Ark, he's going to look an idiot. I dunno; the style was similar, but the part she was really worried about - trying to act like he's thirty - seemed to be covered. They didn't hide his aging; or Marion's, and it's rather more common in movies for men to get more mdistinguished or more grizzled - ie, age - and women to look the same. So glad they passed, and I think she stuill looked good; competent, intelligent, and a force to be reckoned with. They updated the villains from Nazis to Russians, as it's mid Red-Scare now in Indiana-Jones-world - oh, and to the FBI. Because it is the Red Scare, and Jones is a professor. ("You're a teacher?" "Part-time." I don't know why I loved that but I really really did.)

His supposed big declaration of love fell totally flat (Probably due to ending with the word "Baby", IIRC). The premise was full of the silly - but so were the others, and it was the kind of silly to be expected, and done about right to fit the rest of the series.

I'm not sure a "Mutt Jones" movie would quite work, title-wise, but if they do as they implied and continue the legacy, I'll give it one movie's worth of a chance. The actor (Shia LeBoeuf?) did reasonably well with his material; a few more clunks than the older ones or the villains, but not so much so I couldn't see him polishing up.

We have a houseguest; a pinkpurple-haired SCA member from Calgary who'll be moving here later this year and needs to look at houses. She's rather friendly and quite nice and loves cats, so it's been going pretty well, considering this was the first time we met face to face.

The three-jobs thing is working okay so far, but it is going to run into some tension in July when the SMD people go on holidays but the RCC's big seasonal rush is only petering out, not petered.

I hate canker worms. Not as much as I do tent caterpillars, mind, but the city is not currently infested with tent caterpillars nor likely to be again for some long time. But tomorrow I'm trying a totally different route to work, because it is very much NOT nice to be walking past a heavily-treed park on a heavily treed street.

Not much writing done lately; a scene finished by hand and partly revised onto the computer. But I made 3/4 of a mouse head, pottery wise, the other day. And put up more of the cell-cup photos on flickr.

Been reading various Alan Moore comics lately, mostly fromt he library. Promethea's first two volumes were good until it hit two issues of ramblings about magic and myth; I'm hoping for more story if I should pick up volumes 3-5. League of Extraordinary Gentlemen volume one was the same as it was when I read it the first time (I own it but hadn't read it in a while); good, squicky, excellent and not by turns, and volume 2 was similar, not as much weaker as some people suggested. But it did highlight a common theme in Moore's work of attractive women getting involved with unattractive men - only Watchmen seems to have escaped, and even it made the guy overweight, if good-looking.

I also picked up Bear's Dust from the library so I can finish it.

Started the second new job (SMD) Monday; got a good impression of the work, and I'm in a small office where I can play my music and not horrify anyone.

Then, today, went to a workplace conference there, which actually proved a reasonable way to learn a lot about the people I'll be working with -- almost all positively -- and also to re-learn that I cannot keep my mouth closed if someone's interpretation of a remark or an event is too simplistic; I have to be devil's advocate for a greyer, more nuanced reading. Well, I guess I convinced them I'm not shy. Even though I sometimes am.

Elizabeth Bear and Sarah Monette: A Companion to Wolves

I've read far too many long and discerning reviews of this book, and general discussions of what it's trying to do, to feel like I have anything new to add vis-a-vis my reaction. Except I'm definitely on the side of "This Book is Full of Win."

The main cool ingredients are:
Really amazing wolves, as non-human but solid characters. Viredechtis is most definitely one of the best. Ditto the trolls, even if only through the eyes of their enemies. But the hints are hella cool. (I wonder what would happen if you locked this and The Prodigal Troll in a room together for too long?) And the (semi-spoiler).
Serious re-examination of the "Green-Dragonrider problem", aka deconstruction of the very Companion-Animal fantasy it includes. OH, hell, yeah.
Serious consideration of sexual roles, sexuality, and what happens when they don't match (albeit slightly disguised by the fact that there is indeed much buttsex, not all of it exactly what we would consider entirely consensual, and not written remotely to titillate even when the characters have fun. Thank Dog.)
A noteable feminist undercurrent because of, not in spite of, the overwhelming majority of human characters being male. And consideration of the female role in a warrior society. As inhabited by male and female characters.
Massive quantities of war, battles, confrontations, and confusions, and all that action for those who think the above all sounds dry for the page count.

My single favourite moment was the whole "conversation" between Isolfr and Viradechtis that starts with Isolfr dropping the axe handle. Communicating across a barrier that has to be there in spite of their unreserved love. And all the other moments of culture and species clash turning to comprehension, really. Although drawing the complicated mess that is sex that well is a respectable gift on the part of both authors, it's not even in the running by comparison.

I have just officially gone from one job... to three.

As well as the Rehab Centre for Children, I'm also going to be starting part time at the Society for Manitobans with Disabilities in a position lasting at least until December, in the department that deals with issuing handicapped permits; mostly data entry, soem phones and eclectica. Even though they were getting me from the temp agency, they still wanted to interview me ahead of time, in case of disastrous mismatch, I guess. Which promptly became the single warmest, friendliest interview I've ever had. OTOH, it also seemed like a good match. In fact, the biggest danger will be that they might want me more days, in July at least, than I can actually manage, depending on the RCC's summer schedule.

I'm currently at a one-day-every-two-weeks job for a company that makes parts and technology for greenhouses. It's very quiet reception, and they were up-front that it would include a fair bit of dead time, and I could use the internet. But I'm still trying not to abuse it, so, this is pretty much it. I almost told the temp agency to take me off this one on Wednesday (Before I'd started), when I heard about the SMD job, but since that wasn't a guaranteed place, I felt I shouldn't be too quick. Also, it only goes to the end of August.

Alas, farewell, spare time. I'll miss you.

(See slightly silly new userpic. Will, BTW, cease and desist if Amanda minds my abuse of her artwork. I also made one that cycles the whole cast, but it's too big for LJ. Mostly, they were experiments in animated icons, anyhow, as I've never succeeded in one before.)

This was a rather odd weekend...

It started, on Friday, with me going to an Autopac agent (chosen for convenient proximity to the place where I pay my credit card) to get set up in their system so i could in fact take the test for a learner's permit. I had to lug no end of ID, to confirm name, picture, citizenship, address, etc., etc. First frustration, if brief, was learning that the freaking Manitoba Health Card doesn't count as ID for name and address. WTF? Anyhow, the hurdle was passed, I had enough stuff there to count.

Then I mentioned that I'd had my learner's before, but too long ago to still count as in their system. Especially since I hadn't gone through this rigamarole.

That made her look slightly puzzled, and decide to check back. Apparently, the rigamarole is even newer than I thought. And apparently, the time I last had my license was slightly more recent than I thought; it had expired for non-payment just under the four-year deadline. I'd still needed to stop by an office and bring my ID, since they needed to change my name and address, but rather than walking out and waiting until sometime this week, she took a hideous picture of me (I hadn't washed my hair that day, and it was overdue. At least my face was scrubbed...) charged me the renewal fee, and I walked out with the learner's.

As I've said in person, it's just as well I read up for the written test anyhow, since I wouldn't have trusted myself to remember all the details of the rules of the road. But it's now straight on to the driving lessons. Ideally on a standard, since that's what we've got. (Eeeeek!)

That night we had people over to play silly board games, which is nice, especially since I've been stir crazy. The weather's been rainy so I haven't been able to plant the rest of the garden (I started on the front yesterday) and I haven't been seeing people so often.

Saturday I spent with taleisin, shopping for her birthday present and simultaneously wandering around the downtown used CD stores and bookstores, many of which she'd never been inside. I had the sense to bring most of my trade-in to date, so i ended up with three new CDs without paying a cent:

Rush - Roll the Bones (One of the two of theirs I want, the other being Hold Your Fire)
Fairport Convention - Over the Next Hill (Their newer stuff hasn't the innovation of the early years, or the sudden resurging brightness of their late 80's run, but it's solid.)
Chris De Burgh - Spark to a Flame (An artist whose songs range from pinging my totally indifferent meter to actually pretty good. But whose work I have on vinyl or cassette. The best of is actually far from his best best, but it'll do.)

I bought Taleisin two books and a CD (Her total list of swag is on her own lj), and myself three books (Oops):

Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier (Rachelmanija keeps talking about Gothics. I figured for the cheap price I could try another.)
Rowena Farre - Seal Morning (memoir)
Tom Holt - Wish You Were Here

When we were all done in, we walked most of the way to our homes together. i invited her to come back to my place, since Colin could probably give her a lift, and we could lounge and hang out a while first, but she opted to walk on.

Oops. Turns out, this was a mistake, I think.

While I was gone, Colin had bought a whole salmon, a smoked tulibee, and a bunch of shrimp, and decided to invite a bunch of people over. I considered calling Taleisin back, but calculated how long I'd walked, plus how long before my brain had rested enough to go "Duh!" and figured it had probably been too much time, and too weird a timing. Sorry....

Besiudes, with people over until 1 AM, it took me until then to get to go in and finish the final part of Shadow Unit's first season. Whew... that was no small roller coaster.

Sunday we did the SF RPG usually reserved for Saturday nights, and finished the current mission, the debriefing, and the first stages of the emotional trauma-recovery. Magda is proud of her team. Again. But, ow, this one has a fair bit of emotional fallout still coming. and this GM usually is only too happy to provoke more.

Yesterday was digging in the front garden at last at last after the rain and business (The norming glories in back did the Totoro-thing; one night about three confirmed sprouts and two "That might be another if it grows up...", the next, over 20-some sprouts in their area (And about three where they shouldn't be.) Then archery, badly. I remind myself I have had good days.

Also, I turned my hair more red. Which Colin failed to notice for hours. But he did catch on.

And today, we started the set-up for my brother's fantasy RPG to resume after a two-year (For us) and one-week (For the characters) hiatus. And ocne I got home, for the first time in a while I have committed fiction again. Whee! I think I got all of two whole paragraphs in last week and over the weekend. This scene was a bit awkward and depressing, since Ketan cannot remotely say what he wants or get what he wants out of the moment. But it got onto paper.

Time to sleep.

Yesterday, I managed to stumble directly upon the single most horrible, misogynistic, violent thing I have ever seen upon the internet. How and why is a bit complicated to explain; and in the end, it doesn't matter. For exactly the same reasons it doesn't matter if the woman was tipsy in a short red dress; it makes her vulnerable, but it excuses nothing the perpetrator does.


I'd thought I was braced for misogyny. And I was; the crude words were just so much buzz. Even the first images I came upon, while horribly offensive, mostly just made me grit my teeth.

Then I came face to face with something that was so hideous I cracked. At first I had a hard time believing what i was seeing; this meant I started at it too long to shake it out of my head. I fled the site. I tried to find something to deal with until I'd recovered enough that I could go to bed without nightmares. And I mean it; they would have made the one where Colin murdered me look... butterflies.

I cried.

I don't cry at real things often. Books, sure, music, cheesy movies... there are some movies and things I can't NOT cry at. Even if I try.

The words "Those were photographs. That means it was real." rang in me.

Of course, the person who dared to post such an image - the person who dared to do such a thing - would be glad I reacted that way. Look at the poor fat feminist cry. The bitch can't take it.

I'm glad I reacted that way, too. Because it means I am human.

I have met clueless assholes in my time. I have met men for whom women are of no worth if they won't put out. I've met them mostly in passing -- or chosen to keep my distance.

I have never, even face to face with someone who was demeaning women or committing sexual harrassment, ever imagined there were people out there who hated 50% of the population That hard.

I'm not naive. I'm occasionally idealistic. I know that in large parts of the world, women are still almost chattel, or else no almost about it. I know the North American rape statistics, and the fact that they're low compared to almost any third world country. I've grown furious at no end of reports of crimes - an assaulted woman fighting back, only to have a second man, seeing her strike his friend, assault her himself. I understood the anger, and I know why I grit my teeth when people mock the extreme end of feminism, even though I agree that the extreme end is as bad as any other extreme group. I know why I refuse to stop using the word feminist to describe my politics.

I remember being assaulted when I was twelve. I mostly think of the boys who did that as dangerously unthinking, clueless to what they did, not malicious. Not evil.

But I never imagined there could be a gulf that big between men and women, a hate that hateful, an action that hurtful. This was evil.

So I cried, and I knew the person who posted that - not hidden, but in mid-forum, midstream, where it could be come across by someone expecting no worse than words - would gloat.

I tried to pray. I may be Christian, but prayer has never come easy to me. It doesn't soothe me, it doesn't feel like it's heard. The times I feel myself reach to the divine, or the divine reach to me, come by other routes. But I tried. I tried to pray for peace in me, but more, I prayed that the person on the other side would, even for a moment, imagine the reaction of those who came across that image - and would feel the slightest, remotest spark of empathy.

It still felt unheard, unsent, but I repeat it here.

Because the thing I loathe second-most, after knowing those pictures was real, is what it did to me.

For the first long stretch of today, I had a hard time looking at any man. I've been having to remind myself that the most insensitive and doltish of all my male friends would all of them, as a whole, rally around their female friends, would defend one if for some reason she couldn't defend herself. Are willing to respect brains and self-confidence. Even the most body-judgmental still see and consider women as people. But I was exceedingly glad that my workplace has 70-odd X chromosomes and one Y.

I could deal with Colin, though for some reason, I was glad he wasn't in the mood tonight either. I trust him utterly, so i was glad to cuddle up to him, talk to him, look at him and be happy and open around him. But.

Last night when i went to bed, late enough and long enough that i was both exhausted and not likely to have a nightmare, he rolled over to face me. I was facing the wall.

I couldn't take it. I had to get him to turn the other way. because my regular brain knew, "Colin. Familiar and warm sleeping lump. Kinda furry, good to cuddle."

My lizard brain was saying "Something bigger than you and more dangerous than you is right behind you and you're totally exposed."

Also, I was physically incapable of fleeing to him to hold me when I found what i found. Not because he was asleep; because at that moment, I couldn't have borne it.

That's why I'm angry. because while I am as guilty as the next person for saying "Men!" in mock amusement (deeper and even more sincere than usual apologies to all my male friends and relatives) I have never, in my life, come remotely close to being hateful towards, or afraid of, men as a whole. Specific people, of course. But not the whole gender.

Hatred towards one whole gender was why I was so outraged in the first place.

I wish I had never, once, seen the capacity for it within myself. Even at a low grade level, even as a passing reaction.

May they gain the spark of empathy I nearly lost.

The first part of the final episode of Shadow Unit, season one, just went live.

It's set this week. Meaning there's no clue from the presence of the livejournals what will happen or has happened. In fact, one of the characters who has an LJ missed a date on Saturday*.

And hasn't posted since.

And now I know why.

Oh, fuck.

Fiction does not leave you panting in terrified reaction. This is storytelling, pure and solid. The elusive gold of storytelling.

I kid you not.

Not the episode. The Season. If you jumped straight to Refining Fire, it wouldn't hit you in the gut. You need all the other painful, twisted, fabulous stories first.

I can't write. I could never write like that. And yes, of course, I don't want to *be* Bull or Bear, or even the creator of their writing. but right now, I don't even want to look at the dross of the Serpent Prince.



* With a real person. Shortly after photos were posted on cvillette's lj of trollcatz on a climbing wall. Even though she doesn't exist. The meta is getting META.

Friday

( Jane Yolen, general wandering, and mixed-up plans )

Saturday night I went to Prince Caspian with taleisin and Colin.

( Movie review )

Yesterday I did a day pass to visit Keycon.

( Panels and music. )

(I so need an MP3 player with more than 512 mb of space... alas, it's somewhere behind needing a pottery wheel, a new set of bookshelves, and a filing cabinet. And possibly even behind a new pair of jeans, though the lack of rush there has been mainly that I just don't wear them much. It would be behind a bicycle, except I think the in-laws have that one covered.)

The Nightwish concert went pretty well. I did feel a bit alien to the audience style, which definitely has different protocols from even the rock concerts I've been at, and certainly from the folk ones, even the heavy insane folk ones like Horace X. I think the last place I saw that many hands upraised towards the stage with such fervour was in a Mennonite church service. ;P

Of course, the gesture was a little different, and they never head-bang in a Mennonite church.

(We were kind of wanting to see what might happen if Brannie tried to head-bang, but I think she would have taken out three or four people. In front and in back. And given herself whiplash form the momentum.)

So I got to meet up with the classmate, C, I was hoping to see there., along with a group of her friends who seemed pretty nice. And Brannie and Dan tried to goth up a bit; while she looked good, I think he made a better goth.

We stuck to the standing section, for those of us inclined to rock out and/or dance. This has an added disadvantage in a converted movie theatre, as the floor was aslant, so any heels were automatically a couple of inches steeper than anticipated.

The opening act, Sonic Syndicate, might have been decent; it was hard to tell. Their sound "guy" was definitely crap. The Garrick does not have the best acoustics ever, but it's better than THAT. The guitars were a wall of noise, not even as clear as thrash guitars ought to be. It didn't help that many of their lyrics were not in English but in Holler, but even when the one singer was singing (And he seemed to have a pretty good voice) it was fuzzy as all hell. It certainly added to the impression that their songs weren't nearly as distinct one from the next as they should be. The crowd responded, but not ethusiastically, and there was room to dance a bit.

Nightwish's sound "guy" was better. It was obvious even during the sound set up, as they went through the drum kit (Which Jeff described as only the third most ostentatious he's seen; it's certainly well up there for me.) You could hear each drum get crisper as it was tapped. And as they did the sound check, people kept drifting in and drifting in to pack it much tighter. C. and the friends she'd brought still had room to let down their hair and headbang, and I managed some dance steps without elbowing people too often (Sorry Jeff).

They still made a mistake in the volume of the mix; Tuomas' keyboards were too far back, and so were Anette's vocals (Marco came through with a lot more force). Not inaudible by any means, but not given their full place in the band. So it could have been better that way.

Still, the band knew what they were doing, music wise, and crowd-wise. They didn't overact too much, considering the sheer melodrama of the music; a couple of times someone on stage was smiling during one of the most sad or strange bits, but far less than the audience was doing. Anette was occasionally tweaking melodies to better fit her own vocal range and comfort zone - sicne, as Jeff remarked, she did it to songs she sings on the album, and did hit some of the highs, she wasn't doing to because she hasn't the range to handle it; I got the impression though that she's still trying out what the changes do to the songs, if that makes sense.

At the start, I found myself thinking that while Anette was not a blonde, as Jeff said her voice made him think she should be, she still wasn't as goth as the others. She grinned and bounced and vamped around the stage rather more like an adorable bouncy thing, skull shirt or not. Then i noticed that the guitarist, Emppu, who *is* blond, was at least as non-goth; inclined to grin and share jokes. I got the impression he might be the most fun to talk to. Even the uber-goth Tuomas turned out to have an adorable grin where appropriate (In this case, adorable is Brannie's word, not mine).

The music was good, though I do have a hard time understanding why people in live concerts shout and roar and cheer in the middle of songs, whenever the tempo speeds up, whenever it slows down, whenever they feel like it. It does seem kind of a bad idea to drown out the music that's putting you into your mood. Sheer at the start or end, yes, sing along, hell YES!, pump your fists and head-bang, well, sure. (Suddenly realise you can do the Hay Bransle steps to Seven Days to the Wolves... I'm sure I've done worse.) But I kind of thought they'd want to hear the music.

The sheer roar they managed to try and call the band back for the encore started to overwhelm even me, though; it was considerably harder to bear than the volume of the concert itself, for whatever reason. Ouch.

There's a lot to be said of the mood of a live show, too, even when the studio versions of the music are officially crisper and lack a roaring audience. And they did pull off the Poet and the Pendulum, all 13-some minutes and several moods, very well. Ditto Sahara; I think Jeff might be right that that was one of the ones that really kicked ass live. The Siren, while distinctly different with the different vocal style, also really got me.

The set was, perhaps not oddly, virtually all from either Dark Passion Play (the new album and the one Anette sings on from the start) and Once (Generally considered their Best) They did only three songs from elsewhere; one of those something they did for a movie soundtrack or the like, and not on any of their albums. I can't complain too hard as it did mean they did mainly work I know, but it seemed an odd choice.

The set list, according to Jeff (And based on the set-lists they tossed at us, which were only mostly accurate) was:
Bye Bye Beautiful (Dark Passion Play)
Dark Chest of Wonders (Once)
Whoever Brings the Night (DPP)
The Siren (Once)
Amaranth (DPP)
The Islander (DPP)
The Poet and the Pendulum (DPP)
Come Cover Me (Wishmaster)
While Your Lips are Still Red (Unknown - movie soundtrack?)
Sahara (DPP)
Nemo (Once)
======
Seven Days to the Wolves (DPP)
Dead to the World (Century Child)
Wish I Had An Angel (Once)


Songs I'd have liked them to try:
Ghost Love Score (I guess two epic lengths would have been a bit much)
Sleeping Sun

The eyepatch and steri-strips came off yesterday, which is good, as it did mean I could go to archery. The cut is hard to see on a casual look, because of how the lid folds, but it's not too hard for me to display it; it doesn't take much more than closing my eye long enough to let a person focus on it. In some ways it hurts more; the gaping is closed but it's puckered and it will scar, and now it's exposed to air and rubbing. And it's obvious now that some of the ache is from most of the weight of a cat landing hard on my eye, not just eyestrain, even if there's scarce any obvious bruising. Ah well, I will take it over having the patch blocking my sight and the strain on the other eye, any day. It heals, I can function. And See. That's kind of useful.

But mostly I've been busy with things like, let's see; my brother's return to Winnipeg on Sunday (Whee!) which also involved stopping at Abacchus and _aura_'s for pot luck (Colin made a *turkey*) and to teach mom how to play Munchkin. Also to give mom her birthday gifts.

Yesterday was Colin';s birthday, but not terribly celebrative; we went to archery and not much else. A lot of people who don't always show up made it, though, so much fun was had. Also, someone else on the range had a crossbow; at least one of our members actually got to try it out. And was doing much promoting of the SCA, since the guy with the crossbow, barely more than a teen, was exactly the kind of person tog et interested in heavy fighting.

Tonight, Colin and I went to The Garwood Grill, which I found indifferent, as an anniversary dinner. Then went to hang out with tiene, her husband, and Brannie and not her husband, and ended up playing Munchkin Cthulhu, while some other, unexpected guests played Rock Star in the background. (It makes marginally more sense to me than Guitar Hero; the drummer is at least learning a skill actually relevant to drumming. I still think neither makes half the sense of DDR, which may not teach you much about dancing, but gives you exercise and rhythm sense.)

Tomorrow is the Nightwish concert. We're trying to go in a group; Jeff and I, Brannie and Dan, and Tomaas and his brother. And maybe others if i hear from them.

This morning I woke to a completely new sensation; a raking hind claw stomping across my right eye socket.

OW.

(fuck)

Easy enough to understand what happened.

Élise has an unfortunate habit of leaping onto the bed by leaping onto Colin, rather than going via the foot of the bed, which is Irina's route, and not incidentally closer to the door in the first place. Since I'm the one who lets the cats sleep by me, and Colin doesn't want them there even when they aren't landing on him with their full weight and momentum, this has gotten her flung off a few times, you'd think she'd learn. Of course, it sometimes also gets her pushed, usually more gently, towards the person she's actually there to see.

Unfortunately, this time, she jumped even higher up his body than usual, and Colin shoved her my way a little too hard.

I'm not sure if I screamed or just vaulted up, I just know that my hand was pressed over my eye and there was the wild scrambling noise in the hallway that cats make when they're not quite up to teleporting but are trying to break the sound barrier. I lay there a moment in sheer reaction. Then I launched out of bed, answering Colin's "Are you ok?" with "I don't know yet!" and charged for the bathroom, to see if I was just leaking blood -- or vitreous humor.

The eye itself is fine. The short slash across my upper eyelid, on the other hand, not so much. It was bleeding badly, and when I stretched the lid to get a better look, she'd managed to open the skin really interestingly; deep and wide both. My first reaction was that it probably needed stitches, and I should head to a clinic as soon was one was open. My second, while applying alcohol to the injury, was that so long as my eye was closed or normally open, the injury stayed kind of closed too, so maybe it wasn't so bad. Colin was willing to go with whatever I thought was right, since it was my eyelid. My third impulse was to get indecisive. My fourth was to check with my local health care expert.

So I called mom. She agreed with my first impulse, although she did say I could probably sleep a few more hours, too, as it probably wasn't urgent. I decided I was pretty awake for the meantime. Colin dropped me off just before 8:00: the clinic opened at 8:30. Because I went and got a drink and a granola bar from a cafe instead of standing on the spot, I ended up about sixth in line. I was seen around 10:00. The doctor was reasonably young, a little sardonic in a way that would put one at ease, and a little impressed by the cut. He re-cleaned it (It had been leaking a little blood and a fair bit of whatever the pale clear fluid is that skin wounds leak.) put steri-bands over it because it was in a place that was really bad for stitching, and they pretty much act as plastic stitches. Oh, also a tetanus shot, because I sure can't remember when I last had one.

I almost forgot to tell him the posters in his office were fabulous. He had three of the evil cute bunny, with comments like "Vomit everywhere. Just one of the things you can do with the help of alcohol" and two from despair.com, including one on birth control.

He wants me to keep the bands on 48 hours at least, 72 if I can manage it. So I get to greet my brother at the airport in an eyepatch!

I can open the eye to about half mast, which means I can read, as I look down to do so, but most of the time, I'm better off with the full-out eye-patch, because it keeps me from trying to open it wider to see better, and it looks a lot less ugly. Colin's been doing comparisons to Frankie from Sky Captain.

But it would be the right eye. I think I'm not doing archery tomorrow. The arrows would be... interesting.

I have been getting to appreciate depth perception once again, but what I'm really missing is peripheral vision. I tend to walk around looking far more at things in the vicinity and far less at where I'm going, and count on periphery to tell me if I'm about to hit something. Not so good a habit after all, even if it has meant I've spotted more falcons in the city than most people.

Also, the strain of using one eye where you usually use two does bring on a headache.

Let's see what actually makes it into text here.

( life and writing and art updates; the boring stuff )

( Reviews of cool books and music; more interesting )