Nezuko's Rat's Nest

NEW MAC!!!

2009-12-28T22:40:30Z

I got a new Mac! It's a MacBook Pro 17", and it is AMAZING! So much screen real estate! So much SPEED! It's BLAZING compared to the three and a half year old 15" MacBook Pro it replaces.

Transferring the files over proved to be a problem, due to a combined fail of Apple providing poor instruction (I know! I'm writing them a letter next!) and the old Mac having some kind of serious hardware fail. I knew about the hardware fail (spontaneous shutdown under heavy load) and it's going in to be repaired now that I have this one working. But anyway with the help of my friend Robert, I have it all up and running, and it is SO AWESOME.

Going from a maxed out 80 GB drive to the wide open spaces of a 500 GB drive is like... Like moving from Manhattan to Montana! And I can watch videos again (the sick Mac was choking on them) which is awesome. And run Photoshop and Illustrator. In fact I ran Illustrator for the first time in a couple years today, in order to create a poster/program art for my play. I feel like a real designer again!

Anyway, yay! This is my glee! I have a new Mac. Now to fix up the old one for Mom...

The Meaning of Christmas

2009-12-24T09:00:02Z

I adore Christmas. I love the ideas and traditions, the music and food; I love equally the secular, faith-based, and pagan aspects; I love the fact that there is a time of the year where most of the people in my culture give some thought to friends, family, and love; gift-giving, kindness, and peace on earth.

But one thing I've noticed this year is a sort of defiant belligerence about Christmas from some quarters. I've seen a couple of "don't let them take Christ out of Christmas" memes go around on social networking sites, and I find them disturbing. This is the text of one that was on my sister-in-law's facebook status: "I am NOT afraid..... They may want to take Christ out of Christmas, but they can never take Christ out of me. If you are proud to be a Christian and are not ashamed of Christ then post this to your status for 1 day as a light to the world. Most people will be too ashamed or scared to do it. God Bless those of you who can do it!!!"

It really rubs me the wrong way. For one thing, it's shaming: If you are Christian and you don't repost this, it says, then you are a coward. For another, it's defensive and passive-aggressive. It mentions a shadowy "They" who "want to take the Christ out of Christmas." Who is this they? Anyone who celebrates the secular aspects of this holiday? People who celebrate other holidays, like Hanukkah, Solstice, or Kwanzaa?

Then there's my sister (not the sister-in-law), who works in the marketing department for a large regional bank in the south. Their web page had a rather inoffensive "Happy Holidays!" message on it, which generated a shitstorm from a bunch of small town Mississippians (the bank serves several southern states, but the Mississippians were the ones who raised a fuss), who flooded my poor sister's office with angry calls and emails that ran along the lines of: This is a Christian nation and you should say Merry Christmas. You have trampled on my religion by not saying Merry Christmas, you godless heathens.

Not surprisingly, this had her in tears. And livid. And it got even worse when her bank's board decided to cave in and replace the "Happy Holidays!" message with "Merry Christmas!" As if there were no Jews or Pagans or Muslims or Buddhists or Atheists or what have you in their customer base. As if they had done something wrong by wishing their customers a Happy Holidays.

What is going on here? Is this Glen Beck and FOX News's doing, with their "War on Christmas" sensationalism over town halls erecting Menorahs as well as manger scenes? Is it just people looking for an excuse to see themselves as victims? And what on earth happened to the notions of tolerance and religious freedom that were once so important to America's sense of self as a nation?

Somehow I can't help but see these two things as being related: the aggressive accusatory tone of the facebook memes, and the behavior of the anti-"Happy Holidays" people. Can't they see that this is the very thing that gives Christians a bad name? That makes non-Christians fearful? And how is this in any way Christ-like behavior? How does this lead to peace on earth and good will towards all people? Isn't that really what Christmas is about?

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward all.

Want to see my play?

2009-12-24T08:29:33Z

I feel a disturbing sense that I ought to post something, and yet I have so very little to say. Probably this is a sign I should get back to doing morning pages. Or night pages. Daily pages. Whatever, you know what I mean. Pages. Every day. Of writing. Because otherwise I go a long time without updating and then I consider posting about everything that has happened in my life and that just feels simultaneously overwhelming and dull as ditch water.

So here it is nearly Christmas Eve, and astonishingly I've actually been kind of Adventy and Christmasy all season long. Possibly because of the Advent play I'm doing at church, in which I play one of the Three Magi, a trio of drag performers traveling across the Holy Land hoping to play for royalty. King Herod turns out not to be the right king, and then they find this poor woman nine-months preggers and about to give birth in a barn. Possibly you know the story.

Anyway so I've been directing that, and acting in it, and singing because it's a musical. One act per Sunday during Advent, and then the baby gets born and all that in Act V, on Christmas Eve. Which is tomorrow. We're presenting a full production of all five acts on the night of January Fifth. Anyone in the Bay Area who wants to come see the January performance, let me know and I'll send you an evite.

So because of this, I have been in a Christmas sort of frame of mind. I shopped early, wrapped and mailed presents (except for kilerkki's. Sorry Ki, I was waiting for part of it to arrive so I could mail it all together. Yours will be in Utah for you when you get back.) I even put up my Advent calendar and tied caramels to the days, and have been eating one every night. It feels sort of weird for Christmas to actually be here now, though. Fastest twenty-four days ever.

But anyway, yay! Candy canes and love for everyone!

Winter Solstice!

2009-12-21T21:19:16Z

Good Yule to thee
This happy day
The sun once more
does shine!

I lift a cup
Of Wassail up
To drink to thee
and thine!

Welcome to Zombie Monkey Island

2009-12-16T21:48:30Z

Five Hour Energy drinks are fantastic if you need to get yourself all energized for an evening rehearsal. But they suck monkey brains through a paper straw for getting restful sleep afterwards.

Three and a half hours of stupid, unmemorable-yet-tiring dreams doesn't really count. But up at nine I had to be, so here I am. At least I got some important chores done last night, but boy am I zombified today. Time for another Five Hour Energy drink...

Over the weekend, awesome happened. fireinflight came to visit for the weekend, and darksideofstorm who is here visiting jbmcdragon came and hung out with us while JB worked, then JB joined us, and we had Christmas. It was awesome. So much laughing, and cool presents, and eating together, and plotting fic, and dog-pile snuggling on my bed, and more awesome.

Act Three of my play was Sunday. This was my big act, in which I had my character development scene and awesome song. It went amazingly well, and as a bonus Dark, JB, and Phi got to see it. And I rocked it. Hopefully there will be a recording I can share with y'all.

Been doing a little writing with messypeaches, and this afternoon Dark comes back over to spend the night. We are gonna write Fallen Leaves stuff and it will be awesome. And I'm working of Fallen stuff with Phi, too, and we have plans. Glorious plans. I have seriously missed writing.

Money Talks

2009-12-11T00:30:16Z

Money talks, and you know what? It can say positive things as well as negative. The Human Rights Campaign has published an online shopping guide to LGBT-friendly businesses that includes everything from gas stations to computer games, cleaning products to fine dining... You get the picture.

Boycotts never really seem to do much (well, maybe except the Coors boycott of the 1970's) but spending your money with businesses where you know you are welcome as a customer is a good practice. I know I'll be bypassing Exxon in favor of BP and Arco next time I fill my tank.

It's Fiber Optic!

2009-12-10T06:28:06Z

I have all the contents of my dining table (a lot of stuff that's probably important and shouldn't be lost) in boxes, and the tabletop itself sort of cleared and...

Ta Dah!

(Why yes, that is Batman and Joker wrapping paper on those presents *grin*!)

And this isn't just any tiny tabletop Christmas tree, oh, no: it's FIBER OPTIC!

Tomorrow, ornaments!

Poetry Reading and Misc.

2009-12-06T07:37:41Z

I went to a poetry reading this evening at my friend Anet's school. She's getting a Masters in women's spirituality. I read just one poem, my new one, Autumnal, and it was very well received. I ended up being the second person to read, and I was the only one there not from the school. I'd been invited because I'd attended an earlier poetry reading in the summer, as Anet's guest, and her professor, Judy Grahn, a noted poet, asked Anet to invite me back. That in itself was pretty awesome. But then there was my poem, which they reacted to with astonishment and applause. It was pretty awesome.

My mom, too, has requested more poetry. I sometimes think I should try to be more disciplined about it, and try to, say, complete a collection, Or, you know, try to sell my poems to magazines or something. Maybe in the new year.

It's cold tonight. Snow level is supposed to drop to 2000 feet, which means if the rain comes as predicted on Sunday night, there will be snow visible on the hills. That's kind of awesome.

I've gotten more Christmas gifts organized, and several wrapped. I'd say I'm maybe halfway to two-thirds of the way done. Hope to get a few things in the mail on Monday. Some things aren't made yet, though, and some people I really want to give gifts to but have absolutely no ideas for them. Those are frustrating.

I want to write, too. I mean, part of me wants to write. Part of me is very happy being a lazy slacker. Actually I stayed in bed today, asleep, until nearly three in the afternoon, but I decided that was okay, since tomorrow is going to be a killer day.

Sundays are marathons for me until January, because I need to get myself dressed and made up, and then show up at Wayne's at 10:30 to help him and Manny get into makeup for our play, Wise Up, the story of three drag performers (Gold, Frank N. Sense and me, Myrrh) who are doing the circuit in Judea, hoping to make it big and perform for the king. We're doing the show one act at a time, during the Sunday service, with Act five to fall on Christmas Eve. And then we're doing a full run through of all the acts on January 5th. So right now we have performance during the 12:30 service on Sunday, followed by a rehearsal of the upcoming acts all Sunday afternoon. I arrive home ready to drop, and for the last couple of weeks, have done just that, collapsed in bed the minute I got home. We're also rehearsing Tuesday nights.

I must NOT GET SICK, since I am one of the leads, and I'm also directing and stage managing. The play, a musical, was written by owldolatrous our music director, who is awesome, and also one of my dearest friends. He wanted me to make him a logo, and I failed and didn't get it done, and I feel kind of bad about that.

Anyway, I want to write, but I also feel this tremendous inertia, like I have so much I'm trying to do already, and writing just feels impossible on top of it all. But I'm sure it will all work out. It usually does. Anyway, anyone in the Bay Area who wants to see me sing, you can come to my church services at 12:30 on Sundays (act three has my best song, that's a week from tomorrow), or you could come to the full run through on January five. Just let me know if you're interested.

Nezu Gets Festive

2009-12-04T22:06:44Z

Christmas is the gayest holiday at my house! This is my wreath. The willow wreath itself I've had since my first apartment in California, the flag I got a year and a half ago on the day same-sex marriage was (briefly) legalized, and the ornaments I bought last December, shopping with my stepmother in Healdsburg the day or so after Christmas. They're super heavy old-timey mercury glass, and very, very cool. And the ribbon they're strung from came from the gayest little hardware store in the Castro.

This is the awesome angel my mom sent me for Christmas several years ago. I'd like to say she's just a Christmas decoration, but in fact she's the guardian angel on the inside of my front door year round.

Here's what Christmas looks like in Northern California: festively decorated palm trees. Took this photo with my iPhone while out for coffee with jbmcdragon on Wednesday night, so it's a little grainy and underexposed, alas.

Next I want to clear off my table, get a little table-top tree and decorate it, and get out my advent calendar and hang it up. I've already put the Charlie Brown Christmas Album into rotation. *grin*

Poem: Autumnal

2009-12-03T10:19:18Z

We had an early cold snap back in October, which has caused the trees in the Bay Area to turn stunning for the first time in the twenty years I've lived here. Every year, when autumn comes around, I miss the fall leaves. I miss the sound of rakes, fresh apple cider and hot donuts, hayrides and drying corn stalks. San Francisco doesn't really do autumn so much as gradually dial down from warmish to coolish, until one day you notice you need your leather jacket during the day as well as at night, and you wonder if it's time for gloves and a scarf yet.

Autumnal
©2009, Nezuko

Back east,
in Michigan and Tennessee,
winter waits for her entrance
behind prom queen autumn,
who struts and shimmies her way through
a glorious wake
for the end of photosynthesis.

The air turns crisp,
before deciduous trees give up their mantles,
weeping leaves into drifts and piles that smell
musty and earthy
and comforting.
The scent of ending mingles with
hickory smoke in Nashville,
hoarfrost in Grand Rapids.

Maples turn blood red, cardinal, brick;
birches golden yellow, frozen sunshine, liquid amber;
elms and chestnuts go to vermilion and flame.
Oaks are the last to give up their raiment,
holding fast to papery brown rags
until November is half-gone.

Then bare branches claw at the sky,
framing breathtaking blue,
so thin, so cold.
Or low and heavy grey,
pregnant with rain and the threat of January.

On clear nights, stars glitter,
loose diamonds scattered on black velvet
by an eager jeweler.
On cloudy ones,
sodium vapor lamps from city streets
cast a lotus blossom pink-orange glow
against a smoky ceiling.

One day,
one red-cheeked, breath-viewing day,
when the sun sets too early
and clouds pile thicker than the down comforter
(gotten out of storage and smelling of cedar chips
and mothballs)
there is an icy damp tang
at the back of each inhalation
a frisson of expectation:
snow.

Snow is coming.
The true queen is coming,
draped in ermine and regal silence,
putting gaudy autumn to shame.

Fallen Leaves Survey Response

2009-12-02T01:03:43Z

My friend Kiki (midnightdiddle ), who was the original writer of Hayate in Scarlet Spiral, is working on a degree in literary studies, with a minor in folklore, and asked if she could make Fallen Leaves the subject of a paper. I posted her request and survey to the OOC, and after spending all afternoon on answering it, and finding it to be an interesting literary exercise, I've decided I'd share my (somewhat edited) answers with you here, as well. All surveys are confidential, and I have redacted any sensitive information.

Informants

1. (Nick)name or handle: Nezuko

2. Age: 42

3. Gender: Biological female

4. Location: San Francisco Bay Area, California

5. Language (if you speak more than one, please indicate which is your first language/which language you feel most comfortable with): Native speaker of English. Have studied Japanese for last four years. Took French in high school.

Role-Playing

6. How and when did you begin roleplaying? In late 2005 I was recruited to apply to an RP called Scarlet Spiral (now defunct, was active from 2005 to 2007. It is gone from the internet due to the failure of the web hosting company where it resided.) My friend Kilerkki, who admired my Naruto fanfiction writing, encouraged me to apply.

7. How and when did you join Fallen Leaves? I was a moderator at Scarlet Spiral, and at the end of Scarlet Spiral's lifespan, was the head moderator. I made the executive decision to close Scarlet Spiral and start a new group to replace it. Fallen Leaves was created from the outset with a goal of having publishable-quality writing. It is not so much a role playing game, but a collaborative writing community with an emphasis on quality of writing, characterization, and storytelling. The best writers from Scarlet Spiral were encouraged to apply to Fallen Leaves. Fallen Leaves went online in November 2007, and is still going strong.

8. Please describe your characters (age, sex, occupation): I write three full characters, and as moderator write the occasional ancillary character. Names are given in Japanese order, family name first. All characters are ninja, in a world where ninja are the primary military force. ANBU is the special forces unit (aka Navy SEALs, Army Commandos.)

Main characters:
Shiranui Genma: Age 22. Male. Bisexual. ANBU assassin, specializing in seduction and poisons.
Sakamoto Ginta: Age 22. Male. Gay. ANBU assassin and spy.
Morino Ibiki: Age 20. Male. Straight. ANBU intelligence, specializing in torture and interrogation.

Ancillary characters:
Sarutobi Hizuren, aka Sandaime: Age 61. Male. Leader and top authority in the ninja village. Highest ranking ninja, overseeing a force of several hundred ninja soldiers and all civilian support. Commander in Chief.
Arakaki Hisoka: Age 41. Male. Director of ANBU Operations.
Shida Akumaru: Age 40. Male. Director of ANBU Torture and Interrogation.

Others as needed, including medics, civilians, enemies, targets, etc.

9. Are there any corresponding traits between yourself and your characters (i.e. you and Hayate both like peaches or are shy)?
Genma: Has an allergy to spinach (I have food allergies.) Strong leadership skills. Bisexual. Tends to be a bit irreverent. Has chronic pain in his hands. Tends to think he knows better than his doctors. Field medic (I have a lot of medical training.) Passionate in his personal relationships. Loves tea. Religious (Buddhist).

Ginta: Strong leadership skills. Independent. Somewhat dark inner core. Aesthetically sensitive (likes koi, appreciates fine art.) Finely honed rebel archetype. Ambitious. Loves Japanese sweets. Raised with both poverty and privilege. Precocious as a child. Very intelligent. Likes puzzles. Step-parent issues. Domestic violence survivor.

Ibiki: A bit of a nerd. Likes opera. Eldest sibling.

Group Dynamic

10. Do you feel close with your fellow players? Are there any players you don't feel close to, or feel particularly close to? I am very close with several of the players, and consider them my closest friends.

11. Do any of your RP relationships cross over to offline? For example, have you met or called any fellow RPers offline, or have roommates or friends joined the RP? JB was a friend before she joined Fallen Leaves, though we met through writing. I have visited and been visited by Dark, Phi, JB, and Ki, in some cases driving or flying hundreds of miles in order to facilitate this. I speak on the phone to Dark and Phi regularly, and see JB (she is the only one who lives near me) at least once a month. I have plans to visit Sna (who lives in Edinburgh, Scotland) in the spring, and have spoken to her on the phone several times. I have also spent time with several former Fallen Leaves writers.

12. Have you ever assisted in the offline life of fellow players (i.e., monetary assistance, helping someone move, emotional support and comfort)? Lots of emotional support and comfort for a variety of life situations, as that's what friends do. We have been there for each other through several difficulties. I've offered monetary assistance to a couple of my closest friends when they were in dire need. I helped JB unpack when she moved up here from Southern California last spring, and helped her look for work and gave her a place to stay for a week while she found an apartment. I give out her business cards (she's a dog trainer) fairly often, and recommend her books (she's a published author) every chance I get. And I sometimes babysit for her parrot when she goes out of town.

13. Have you ever sent a fellow player something through the mail (i.e., a gift, card, etc.)? Christmas gifts to all the players (usually something small.) More significant birthday and Christmas gifts, and a few "just because" gifts to my closer friends.

And the random stuff

15. Do you or have you written fanfiction? Is or was it Naruto fanfiction? Lots of Naruto fanfiction. No fanfiction for any other fandom.

16. How did you join Naruto fandom? In January 2004 I got the first issue of American Shonen Jump, read Naruto, and was hooked on the characters and world. Then I discovered the online fanfiction, and in January 2005, decided I could write at least as well as what I was reading, so I published my first Naruto fanfic. I've always focused on side characters.

17. Do you consider yourself internet and/or computer savvy? Yes. I have worked in the software industry as a computer user interface designer since 1989.

CGI Shuriken are Dangerous

2009-11-29T00:39:09Z

Momo and I went to see Ninja Assassin last night. Here's the review.

Thanksgiving and Etc.

2009-11-26T10:40:10Z

Friday night Momo arrived. Yay! We went and got pie at Heidi's Pies in San Mateo (she had pumpkin cream cheese, I had chocolate meringue) then we came home, played with baby rats, and watched Project Runway.

Wait. Back up.

I have new baby rats. Their names are Twister (because he has a perfect little dark grey tornado emblazoned down his spine) and Toto. I got them Thursday night a week ago, the day after they were weaned. At the time they were five weeks old. TINY. I've never had rats that small before. They're awesome. Completely hand-tame, completely adorable. These are the friend-of-a-friend rats I mentioned several weeks back. My friend told me her friend's daughters' new pet rat had turned out to be pregnant! Uh oh! So they had a surprise litter. I helped them get in touch with the local rat rescue, gave them advice on caring for the mama, her sister, and the new babies, and said I'd take two of the males when they were ready to be weaned. So here they are! Twister and Toto, a pair of smooth-coated, standard-eared probably Russian Blue (but may darken to black) hooded rats. Pictures soon. Maybe tomorrow.

So that was Thursday, and then Momo arrived, and then um... Saturday. Something happened. I spent a lot of Saturday having a cold, but we also went to 99 Ranch for Asian ingredients. Sunday was church followed by long rehearsal, followed by collapsing at home. Monday we had lunch with Anet and then nerd games with Wayne. Tuesday we had brunch with masao888 and family, followed by errands: car washing, car oil change, haircut, grocery shopping. Followed by bleaching my roots. Followed by rehearsal. Followed by pie round two. This time she had sour cream blueberry and I had mince. MMM mince pie!

That brought us to today, which was supposed to be a sort of restful hanging around and writing day, but ended up being another errands day. Talked to darksideofstorm which was awesome even though we didn't get to write. Talked to Wayne, who was stressing about the play. Discussed possible changes, including moving one song from act four to act three, which meant writing a bit of a transition scene. But it improves the flow and balance, so Wayne decided to go ahead and do that. But that meant OhNo Crisis! When was he gonna pick up his turkey and ham for Thanksgiving dinner? So Momo and I drove up to his place in Foster City, picked up his voucher, then down to Palo Alto to get the ham and turkey, then back to Foster City to drop them off. Got home in time to turn around and give Julissa a ride to the bank, then pick up her daughter, then take them home. And then we went to the neighborhood Mexican market to get a few more groceries, including fresh crema con sel (salted Mexican sour cream) for the mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving.

Momo made fantastic nummy dinner from wide rice noodles acquired at 99 ranch, plus some thin top round steak and green onions acquired at the Mexican grocery store today. Seasoned with ponzu sauce from the Japanese grocery in San Mateo. A very international and thoroughly tasty dinner.

Then, finally, we chilled. And plotted stories. And then I realized I had no vanilla. So off to the store one last time, to get more vanilla, more potatoes (just to be sure, because we learned we needed to bring mashed potatoes for twelve, not six as we'd thought.) And then I cooked three batches of boiled custard. the first batch I made with Cody's special gluten-free flour. It tasted sort of... not right. So then I made another batch with ordinary flour. And then a third batch with ordinary flour, but I'd run out of lactose-free milk, so I had to make the last batch with ordinary milk, which is fine for me, but not for Momo or Wayne.

And Momo cut up and boiled the potatoes. Tomorrow morning we mash and mix the potatoes - one batch with cheese and one batch with horseradish. Dinner at Wayne's is at 2:00, but we're supposed to arrive around noon.

Wow, Thanksgiving. It's kind of awesome. Really awesome. For the first time since my friends Raymond and Susan moved away to England, I feel like I have a proper Thanksgiving again.

But it isn't just having friends to share a meal with that makes Thanksgiving such an important holiday. When I reflect on all the blessings in my life, I am most thankful for my community of friends, both near and far. You are my inspiration, my solace, my context, my strength. Each of you embodies the light and love of the Divine in my life. Truly, to know that love is to know Goddess-God-Eternal Spirit-Source. I am deeply, richly blessed, and I love you all.

One of Those Days

2009-11-19T05:51:31Z

Today I am thankful for having had "one of those days." Sounds a little bass ackwards, doesn't it? We all know what "one of those days" is like. This was mine:

8:45 AM - Awakened from mildly disturbing and emotional dreams by an alarm clock that rang at just precisely the wrong moment to leave me feeling rested.
Didn't get to write with the friend I'd gotten up to write with for perfectly understandable reasons.
Mid-morning stomach cramps and diarrhea for no obviously understandable reasons.
Tiresome and convoluted comparison of travel sites attempting to find the best deal on tickets for messypeaches to fly up Friday, since she can't drive due to her car being totaled by an asshat who doesn't obey stop signs.
Biting the bullet on the fact that said asshat just cost us a bunch of unexpected cash for said plane ticket.
Emails and IMs about plans for tonight being canceled because one friend has a memory like a seive.
More emails about plans being possibly rescheduled for tomorrow, necessitating me making changes to tomorrow's existing plans.
Frustrated IM ranting from the other friend being affected by the changes.
Disappointing email about how Friday's plans are going into the crapper as well.
3289534 phone calls that aren't very important, from well-meaning people who don't deserve to be snapped at just because my mood is foul.
Lingering headache and sinus issues from the Cold That Will Not Die.
Lengthy failure to communicate with Julissa, trying to understand her Spanish, and getting absolutely no writing done as a result of her frequent interruptions (but at least I have clean laundry and a clean kitchen and bathroom.)
Realization that I have failed to do the church secretarial duties I was supposed to have finished, and that I have now run out of time to get them done before evening.
Long line at the bank, followed by the need to get a photo taken for a new ATM card, on a day when I look like a serial killer who has never heard of shampoo.
Boneheaded move right in front of a motorcycle cop while trying to drive Julissa and her daughter home and being completely lost. (I acknowledged the boneheadedness of my move — a last minute right turn when Julissa was shouting at me in Spanish, "turn here, turn here!" — and got away with a stern warning, thank god. Nearly died of embarrassment right on the spot.)
Exhausted grumpiness when I realized I had just failed to call my girlfriend when I said I would, coupled with a certain knowledge that if I did call her right then, it would go poorly because I was seriously on the edge of having to banish myself to the island Where the Wild Things Are.
Apologetic text message to girlfriend explaining self.
Angst over strange chemical smell coming from somewhere in the living room, possibly up from the apartment below.
Self-exile as described, except to the couch instead of the island, where I watched NCSI and reveled in the violence until finally...
Evening sometime, well after sunset - darksideofstorm called and cheered me up.
8:30ish - Managed to get the church stuff done. Caught up on my f-list. Didn't catch up on my email. Wrote this. Didn't write any fiction. Stayed in hibernation. Still have the headache. Chemical smell remains. Need to clean the rat cages.

So it was just one of those days. Not a horrible day. No new car wrecks. No new deaths of pets or friends. Nothing, really to warrant me being Oscar the Grouch all day, but I was. And you know what, I'm grateful. I'm grateful to have a life where I can have a not-so-great day. I'm here, I'm alive, I have friends who love me.

I'm still staggered by Mikey's death. I was doing the church attendance sheets from Sunday, and there was his name on the roster. Do I delete the line? Which is worse, to keep seeing his name, week after week, and know I'll never put another tickmark next to it, or to delete him from the roster altogether? Do I delete his cell number from my phone's address book, or leave it there as a memorial? Can I stand to see his smiling face peering up at me from the photograph on the cover of the program from his memorial service, which is now tucked into my choir folder? Can I bear to take it out?

And as trying as my day was, it was nothing compared to what Wiley's day must have been, as he woke in a too-large bed, in an empty apartment, dressed himself from a closet still holding Michael's clothes, ate breakfast alone, and went back to work for the first time since Michael's death.

So I'm grateful for my crappy day. So very, very grateful.

So Much Happened

2009-11-17T10:00:31Z

So much stuff happened in the week I skipped. Here it is, cut into bite-sized chunks.

My sister visits, we have fun, she is awesome
Friday a week ago, the day after Mikey died, my little sister arrived for a week of visiting. I failed to log any of it. We did fun things, ate some excellent meals, visited friends and church and the ocean. We handled family obligations to visit our stepmother and did so with grace and style. We spent a night at Hotel Tomo in San Francisco Japantown, went to the Castro, bought Christmas presents, ate Japanese junk food, laughed, watched Alton Brown and agreed he's the total shit (in the OMG so awesome sense of that expression). We had deep conversations about our pasts, our presents and our futures. We talked about the differences between being straight (her) and not so much (me). We talked about shared childhood traumas and the drastically different ways we reacted to them. How my four years on her made some of the difference, but so did my very robust and rather prominent Rebel archetype. We talked about boobs, and how I wish I didn't have them, and what that says or fails to say about my self-identity as female (or not so much). We told each other how very much we love each other.

I hang out with friends and see a candidate for Worst Movie of 2009
A week later, on a rainy Friday, I took her to breakfast at Hobees, and then to SFO for her flight back to Nashville. Then I did errands and chilled and played with the oekaki logic puzzle book I'd bought at Kinokuniya in Japantown. Friday night I went to the movies with Wayne and Cody, to see what is perhaps the Worst Movie of 2009: 2012. It was so bad it was good. Wayne felt it was worth the admission price to see the Vatican topple. I knew we were in for a Very Bad Movie within the first 30 seconds of dialog, when a supposed astrophysicist character told us that the neutrinos coming from solar flares were mutating into some kind of new neutrinos that could affect matter and were acting as microwaves, heating Earth's core.

Um, yeah.

It's kind of like mixing your metaphors, only, you know, using Physics and Biology instead of metaphors and running them through a meat grinder.

For those of you who have ever had a chance to sit next to me while CSI or some similar TV show that takes massive liberties with science is on, you should be able to envision the face I made. It's the face that, when my girlfriend sees it, she whaps me with a pillow and tells me not to froth over bad fictional science.

And anyway, I'd known before I even walked into the theatre it was gonna be bad. I mean, the conversation with Wayne went like this:

Wayne: Wanna go to the movies with me and Cody?
Yours Truly: Sure! What do you guys want to see?
Wayne: 2012
Me: ... No seriously ...
Wayne: I'm in a bad mood, and I want to see the world get destroyed.
Me: OK, but... You actually want to see 2012?!? *slightly hysterical nervous laugh*
Wayne: You don't have to come with us. *hurt sniff*
Me: No, no, sign me up. I could use a night out and... Yeah. okay. I just never would have figured you for... No, seriously. Sure. Get me a ticket.

I was expecting it to have Bad Science, Epic Melodrama, Fantabulous CGI Effects, and Eye-wateringly Wretched Dialog. And even so, it exceeded my expectations. It was so bad it was good. Especially when the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel split right on the fingernail line between God's hand and Adam's.

Afterward we all agreed it was a Truly Terrible Movie and we were glad we'd gone out together. Mark of a true friendship that.

Dark has a birthday and yet somehow I'm the one who ends up getting a present
Saturday I learned a song to sing at Mikey's memorial and watched a lot of NCIS (where the bad science doesn't really bother me for some reason.) And I talked to darksideofstorm for like three hours or something insane like that, because it was her birthday and it was awesome. So awesome. I can't even begin to express how awesome she is, and how much she lights up my life. We talked about life, plotted stories, enthused about each other's writing, plotted more stories, talked about what happens when we die, plotted more stories, made plans for her visit here, discussed butch identity, plotted even more stories... Basically it was her birthday, but I felt like I was the one who got a gift. Happy birthday, Dark.

Church and Michael's memorial service
Sunday. Sunday I woke up earlyish, put on Scissor Sisters, played puzzle, and got myself ready for a long day. First there was church. Ordinary church. A really good sermon about Daniel in the Lion's Den, and we sang a fabulous spiritual to go with it. I was in a shockingly good mood. It was sunny, a good five degrees warmer. I woke up feeling like - Mikey loved church. He loved it. Loved God and Jesus and all of it, and worshiped every Sunday with this whole-soul love, and I could just feel his love in me.

We had lunch. We rehearsed the trio and the anthem for the memorial. The church was filled to capacity with people from Mikey's life. People who weren't sure how they felt about being in each other's company maybe—conservative family, the Bears Club from the Castro, old people, young people, church people, non-church people. People of all colors and genders and abilities. All united by our love for Michael Hendricks.

I spoke when people gave brief testimonies to what Michael had been to us. I told them how I wasn't so sure I was comfortable when I first came to PMCC, but there was Mikey, beaming, holding his arms wide, and I knew, every Sunday when I saw him, ever Tuesday at choir rehearsal when he greeted me, I knew I was Home. I knew God's Infinite Love because I saw it so clearly, felt it so deeply, in Mikey's love. Mikey's smile was God's smile.

I wept. I'm crying again now. Every time I think I'm okay and have accepted it, suddenly I find I'm not.

I sang. We sang for Mikey, and it was beautiful, and I know he heard us. Wiley, Michael's husband, spoke movingly and with such... such compassion. A young man, wracked with grief, speaking in his second language (he's Chinese) so full of dignity and poise. Afterwards he told me, "I knew I needed to be strong for Michael today." I can't even begin to imagine how he's coping.

I stayed after the service and the wake afterwards, along with several others, to help clean up. Then my friend Manny and I went to get hot and sour soup and wind down. He's another person who is a light in my life. An angel radiating love. In all that has happened, I am struck by how much love there is in the world. How God is present to me through my family and friends.

More stuff happened. I picked up amethyst73 and her huz from SFO Sunday night late. Momo got in a car wreck this morning, but she's okay. Wayne and I had lunch, and then Cody joined us for yogurt. I had dinner with Amethyst and Huz. I talked to Momo at long last, and got some details on the car accident. I read a gagillion FB posts, 120 LJ f-list posts, and an uncountable number of emails that I'd been ignoring while the week happened. I wrote this.

I'm thankful. I'm thankful Momo wasn't hurt. Thankful for my friends. Thankful for my family. Thankful for the Love which surrounds me. Tomorrow things get to go back to normal. A little. At least a little. Maybe I'll even get some writing done.

The World Lost a Little of Its Light Today

2009-11-06T09:37:56Z

If you ever feel like you might be having a heart attack, call an ambulance. Even if the feeling passes, even if you think it's embarrassing, even if you're afraid people will call you a hypochondriac and tell you it's just heartburn or a panic attack, call an ambulance.

If my friend Mikey had called an ambulance, instead of trying to drive himself to the hospital this evening, maybe he'd still be here.

Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe that's not what happened. We don't know.

All we know is that his husband got a call early this evening that Mikey had had a heart attack. He was found in his car, stopped in the slow lane in rush hour traffic on one of the busiest freeways in the Bay Area. Someone called 911, but by the time rescue personnel and the highway patrol got there, he had already stopped breathing.

He was one exit away from the hospital.

They raced him to the ER and tried to revive him, but it was too late. They were unable to do anything for him. At forty years old, Mikey died in his car of a heart attack, one exit from the hospital.

Mikey sang bass in my church choir. He was a larger than life person in every way: 6'4", with giant hands and feet, barrel-chested, blond, and bearded—a bear's bear. He was also the gentlest, sweetest man you could hope to know. He was an expatriate Southern Pentecostal, owned a knick-knacks shop, arranged silk flowers, and always called me 'honey.' "Hi, honey," he'd say, and kiss me in greeting, with a beaming smile. He made me feel like someone special.

He made his husband Wiley feel like a prince.

He'd cooked Wiley breakfast this morning. Talked to him on the phone at lunch. Had just booked a room at a Russian River resort for a romantic getaway weekend for the two of them. When Wiley finally got home from the hospital, he found dinner prepared: toast in the toaster, chicken stew on the stove.

Mikey left dinner cooking, we don't know why. He left dinner cooking and got almost to the hospital. Almost isn't even close.

I can't believe he's gone. I can't believe I'll never hear him call me honey again. Can't believe I'll never be engulfed in one of his hugs at church, or eat one of his gourmet lunches after the service. Can't believe I won't be sitting next to him at choir rehearsal Tuesday night, listening to his rich bass voice.

My friend Wayne and I drove over to Wiley's and sat with him. Tracked down our pastor for him. Cleaned his kitchen, and put away that last meal Mikey had cooked. Didn't leave until two more friends of Wiley's arrived, to stay with him through the night.

I can't believe he's gone. It doesn't seem real. It doesn't seem fair. The world without Mikey is a darker place. An emptier place. A place I don't quite understand.

I can't even imagine how it must be for Wiley.

If you ever, even for a moment, think you are having a heart attack, call 911. Call an ambulance. Call someone. Just call.

Accidental Rat

2009-11-03T06:16:41Z

I didn't mean to adopt another rat so soon. I really, really didn't. I knew I'd be taking in a couple of babies in a few weeks, because a friend of a friend sent me a desperate plea about how a female they'd just adopted turned out to be pregnant and had eleven babies. So I said I'd come help separate the sexes and adopt a couple of the boys when they were old enough to be weaned, which is the week of Thanksgiving.

But I didn't mean to adopt a SUPER GIANT ADULT MALE right now.

What I meant to do was go to Petco and buy some rat food. Momo and I went and looked at the fish and the reptiles (where I inspired two ball pythons to do some seriously erotic intertwining, which if you recall was a power I had when Momo and I visited the San Diego Zoo last spring.) Anyway then we went to look at the rats. Aww, how cute, young rats.

On the side of one cage was a sign saying they had an adult male for adoption (as opposed to purchase) and to please inquire. I resolved not to inquire. We went to the checkout and plunked down the new wheel for the baby rats' cage, and the sacks of food, and a couple of parrot toys that make awesome rat toys, and the little container of Rat Crack Brand yogurt treats (cheese flavor Yogies, but they really ought to just rename them because they are totally rat crack.)

The clerk took one look at me and knew I didn't need to inquire. In fact, she inquired for me. "You have four? Would you like to have one more? We have this really sweet curly coated male who needs a home." She'd said the fateful words: curly coat. My one weakness. (OK, I have many weaknesses, and actually she also used the "needs a home" phrase which is like Kryptonite to Superman: I am powerless against it.)

I agreed to meet him. Turns out he was surrendered by an owner who said she'd gotten him and a companion in February, but the companion died and she didn't like this one as much because he was not cuddly enough, and she decided she just didn't have time for him. He'd been at the store awaiting adoption for three weeks because no one thought he was cute because he is A. ENORMOUS, and B. curly coated and black.

She brought him out and I picked him up and he immediately settled down all cuddly under my ear and was obviously the friendliest, cuddliest, most squishily loving rat ever. His previous owner was INSANE. (Other evidence for her insanity and unfitness to be this rat's mom include the fact she was feeding him a diet of bird seed, and she sprayed him with perfume because she thought he smelled bad. Rats should never smell bad. They only do if they have a poor diet, don't get their cages cleaned often enough, or are ill. For the record, he smelled just fine.)

It was obvious within seconds that he was going to come home with me. The clerk waived the adoption fee, because she said it was clear he was going to the right home. She also agreed with me when I said curly coats were best, and had me repeat it for the other clerks to hear. I really can't believe there are people who think curly coat rats are ugly. Seriously. He's like a little teddy bear!

He looks amazingly like one of my previous rats, Wolfwood, a black curly coated adoptee who is no longer with me. This boy looks like Wolfwood only he's about twice Wolfwood's size. Did I mention he is GIGANTOR? He's over 500 grams on my kitchen scale (Zoro who is small for his age is 246 grams, Daigo is about 300) and I suspect he'd be heavier on the vet's more accurate electronic scale. I have named him Nicholas, as in Nicholas D. Wolfwood, for whom Wolfwood was also named.

Neither Momo not I can imagine how a rat could possibly be more affectionate and cuddly than Nicholas. Seriously. He's like a giant fuzzy ball of love. My hope is to get him to live in the cage with Zoro and Daigo. Zoro and Daigo seem less than enthusiastic about that idea, but I'm hoping to persuade them.

Anyway, he's sitting in my lap making the happy rat sound, bruxing and boggling, and occasionally licking my fingers. He's adorable, and I love him, and if ever it was obvious a rat belonged with me, this is it. Better photos soon, but my camera is lost so the iPhone camera is the best I can do right now.

Sano is Gone

2009-10-30T07:41:43Z

Sano continued to deteriorate, and despite aggressive treatment, including the vet draining off five milliliters of fluid from the pleural space, he died late this afternoon. Momo and I went to the pet hospital in the early afternoon, and I was able to hold him and sing to him, and tell him I loved him one last time. He was cool when I held him, despite having been in a warmed oxygen cage, and very weak, and I felt then that he had been waiting for me to come to see him one last time so he could say goodbye. I tried to tell myself he wasn't going, but I knew in my heart that it was only a matter of hours. We saw him at 3:00, and at 4:30 Dr. Nakamura called to say he was dying, there was nothing more we could do, and the kindest thing for him would be to help him cross over.

About a half hour after I got the call that he was dying, I knew he was gone. I felt him tell me he was sorry, and I feel so bad about that. I know he tried his best, and that he loved me and knew he was loved. I told him it was okay, and I know he will always be with me. As I sit here typing this, crying, I feel his spirit so large around me, much bigger than the small body he was contained in while he was here.

Even knowing he crossed over when he did because he was ready to go, I am heartsick, and though I don't think there is any way I could have been more responsive than I was, I will always second guess myself: What if I had come home earlier on Friday evening and noticed he had become ill sooner? What if I had noticed the abscess rupture sooner, or put him in oxygen sooner? How on earth did he develop such a severe infection in the first place?

Sano was the feisty alpha boy in his group, and the prettiest (a curly-coated dark siamese dumbo), and one of the sweetest rats I've ever had. Six months of life, five months with me, was far too little time. Far too little.

It wasn't a miracle after all

2009-10-29T01:40:41Z

Sano really seemed to be improving dramatically, but then on Tuesday evening he seemed to be breathing hard again. By this morning he was in really bad shape despite continued antibiotics and nebulizer treatments. I took him to the pet hospital this morning, and he is in ICU, on oxygen. They took an x-ray and found free fluid in his chest cavity, which the vet said must have come from an abscess that ruptured. That would explain the improvement (abscess formed, walling off the infection temporarily) and rapid decline (abscess ruptured.)

They aspirated some of the fluid and have sent it for cultures, but looking at it under the microscope the vet said it looked like a coccus bacteria, probably strep, and that the antibiotics he was on weren't particularly good for strep, so they are switching him to azithromycin and baytril. They are adding nebulized gentocin (another antibiotic) to the albuterol breathing treatments I was giving him, and giving him more subcutaneous fluids. And, as I said, keeping him in a warmed oxygen cage.

I can't even pet him, since obviously I don't want to take him out of the oxygen. I held him and told him how much I loved him before I put him into the oxygen cage. He did eat a tiny piece of avocado this morning, but he's lost weight and feels skinny.

It's bad.

It's not hopeless yet, but it's really, really bad. When I called to check on him this afternoon, the vet said there had been no improvement. But also no worsening, so I guess that's the best I can hope for at the moment.

His usual vet, Dr. Nakamura, will be back tomorrow, so he'll be transferred over to him, which makes me feel a little more comfortable, because Dr. Nakamura knows me and I feel I can trust him. Not that I really distrust the other vet, but there's a rapport there, since I've had so many rats see Dr. Nakamura over the years, so he trusts me, too.

All I can do is wait and pray, and hope that the antibiotics work. I'll go see Sano again tonight, I think, even if all I can do is visit through the window of the oxygen cage. I'll bring his snuggle cubie from home, so he can have that to hide in.

My poor boy Sano.

Ten Essentials and No Makeup

2009-10-27T07:16:26Z

This blog I like to read, Beauty Tips for Ministers (and no, I'm not a minster, but I enjoy the blog. What can I say?) has an entry about the author's ten essential grooming and wardrobe elements, and a bunch of readers have responded with their lists of ten as well. Reading through them I was struck at how poorly my list would resemble theirs. Now maybe part of it is because I'm not in a position where I need to look "professional" the way a minister would, but still. They all had things I consider kind of insanely girly. And yet they aren't, they're just normal badges of femininity in our culture. Things like perfume, makeup, lotions and potions, skirts and shoes.

So I decided to try it. What are the ten personal hygiene and sartorial items I can't do without? It was harder than I'd expected to list only ten.

1. Levi's 501 Dark Stonewash Original Fit Button Fly Straight Leg Men's Jeans.
2. A nice leather belt to hold them up: current fave is the smooth black one with the black metallic buckle.
3. Black long-sleeve button-down shirt with a black tank-top underneath
4. L'Oreal QuickBlue bleach and Jerome Russel Punky Color Turquoise hair dye
5. Black no underwire cotton knit bra
6. Black leather jacket
7. Ariat boots
8. Ring for my right ring finger
9. Old Spice Swagger deodorant
10. Really good conditioner for my hair

The bra almost seems like odd man out, as it were. Odd woman out? English has almost no gendered nouns: ships and what else? But it feels even more transgressive to refer to a bra as male than it does to call myself a prince.

What are your ten?

Assorted Excellent Things

2009-10-27T07:06:32Z

Sano is amazingly better. He's not quite a hundred percent, he's still a little lower energy than his brothers, but he's almost back to his old self. He's eating, drinking, grooming himself, interested in life. I've nursed a lot of sick rats, but I've never seen a rat get that sick and survive before. I'm calling it proof that sometimes prayers are answered "yes".

Momo is coming to visit on Thursday for a long weekend, and we are going to game with Wayne, and go to Yaoi-con, and see JB, and eat ramen and pie, and cuddle when we want and be quiet together when we want, and laugh and laugh until I need my inhaler.

I got to write some awesome stuff with darksideofstorm and sna32 today, and get to write with fireinflight tomorrow, and maybe with jbmcdragon soonish, and I love writing for Fallen Leaves. I love writing.

I have new antibiotics that are going to work this time, and this sinus infection is going to get beaten back to subclinical.

I am singing some amazing music that owldolatrous has written, including this awesome, syncopated, chromatically challenging solo. The fact that Wayne thinks enough of me musically to give me such a difficult piece is a huge ego boost. I am going to do it perfectly, in order to repay him for his confidence.

On Sunday I was running late and got to church five minutes before the bell. So I'm sitting there in the choir chairs right up in front of the whole congregation, worrying about having been almost late, and the minister catches sight of me, and she gets this huge grin on her face, and gets something out of her backpack and hands it to me. A book: Butch is a Noun. I'd mentioned I had a friend who was doing her dissertation on the concepts of butch and femme, and we'd sort of talked about it, had talked before about how I'm not exactly sure I consider myself female, genetics and genitalia notwithstanding. I love my minister. I love my church. I love how well they get me.

Life is good.

Sano is Improving!!!

2009-10-25T18:22:02Z

When I got up this morning, I found Sano awake and sitting up! He's still moving slowly, but he greeted me with interest and he took and ate a piece of bread!

Last night I'd manage to find a 20cc syringe I'd stashed in with my "assorted medical supplies" box, and had given him a 7cc subcutaneous infusion, along with his antibiotics, more energy work, and another heart-to-heart talk about how important he is to me and how much I wanted him to stay with me. As I held him, I felt him make a decision, and that it was out of my hands.

When I put him in bed, he was as limp as ever, but somehow, as I was lying in bed myself, I continued to feel calmer, and that he'd agreed to stay. Then my inner skeptic told me I was being an idiot, and not to get my hopes up.

But yes. Yes! When I woke up I thought, "He'll be here." and he is!

He's still got a long way to go, and unfortunately the antibiotics seem to be giving him diarrhea, but I don't think we dare take him off of them. I'll call the vet and see of there's a different one we can give him.

Thank you for your love and prayers.

Thank you loving Goddess-God-Creator, for hearing my prayers and helping Sano turn the corner.

Fic: Boys Born in Summer

2009-10-25T08:59:03Z

Since I'm staying up late nursing a sick rat, I thought I'd finally finish a story. I swore I'd never write another baby ninja story after First Kisses. Promises, it seems, are made to be broken.

Title: Boys Born in Summer
Author: Nezuko
Genre: Humor, Slice of Life
Rating: K
Characters: Genma's mom, Raidou's mom, Genma's older sister, Raidou
Status: Complete, Worksafe
Wordcount: 1929
Link: On FanFiction.net — Boys Born in Summer

Summary: Ninja motherhood, summer pregnancies, going back to work, toilet training, and a stolen frog are all part of the conversation when Genma's mother, eight months pregnant with him, meets two-year-old Raidou and his mother in the park.

For darksideofstorm who asked for "something involving young Genma and Raidou"

Boys Born in Summer
Late May rains had given way to June heat, dense and sticky. The air was almost oppressively green, echoing with the mating calls of insects and frogs, heavy with the scents of mud and new growth. Namiashi Manami sat on a park bench in the shade, shielding her eyes as she watched her toddler poke at a puddle with a long stick. Raidou would be two in just a few months, ready to start preschool, and she was glad. As much as she loved her son — and she did, more than life itself — she missed taking missions. Missed her life as a chuunin and the company of other adults. It was time, she told herself, to get back to work. Soon. Maybe in the fall, if Takahiro agreed.

A dark-haired little girl with curiously light eyes came running up the path, waving a pinwheel in the air. How could she run in this heat, Manami wondered. Obviously a ninja's child, to have so much energy when the mercury soared and the air was so humid even lightweight gauze clung like flannel. She looked to be maybe four or five; too young to be alone, and... Yes. There was her mother waddling up the slight hill towards Manami with the wide-stanced gait of a woman close to term. Manami remembered her miserable summer pregnancy with Raidou, and felt pangs of sisterly empathy for this stranger.

The little girl was almost on top of the toddler before she noticed him. She shrieked, stopped short, and veered off towards the swings. Raidou, startled, spun around with his stick in hand, overbalanced himself, and toppled, landing with a surprised grunt that soon turned into wails.

"Yumiko! Stop!" the woman scolded. "Yumiko-chan! Didn't you see the baby?"

"I didn't hurt him," the little girl — Yumiko — shouted back. "He just fell down all by himself."

Manami scooped her son up and soothed him, patting his bottom until he hiccuped and started giggling.

"I'm so sorry about that," the woman said when she drew close. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine. She really didn't knock him down. He just hasn't learned to keep his balance yet." Manami smiled. "Have you, Rai-chan?"

Raidou squealed with delight and waved his stick. "Down!" he said decisively. Manami set him on his feet, and he immediately started toddling after the new arrival.

"No, you stay here, Raidou," Manami told him, pulling him back by the strap of his overalls. He gave her a brief scowl, then resumed happily banging his stick against the edge of the puddle, scattering bright drops of water.

"He looks like a real handful," the newcomer said. "I'm Shiranui Etsuko, and that's my daughter Yumiko. I'm so sorry she—"

"Namiashi Manami. And please don't worry about it," Manami told her. "Raidou's fine." She studied her new companion: Etsuko's maternity clothes were clearly geared towards practicality and maneuverability, with a multitude of pockets and a minimum of embellishment. Above pregnancy-swollen ankles, Etsuko's calves were solid, toned muscle, and the intensity of her chakra presence gave her away as a ninja at least equal in rank to Manami.

"I think perhaps we've met once before, in the mission office," Manami said with a smile. "But it's been a couple of years since I was active duty." She glanced fondly at Raidou, who looked up from his puddle-splashing for a moment with a happy laugh. Manami sat back down, making room on the bench for Etsuko. "When are you due? You should have a seat. Your poor ankles must be killing you."

"July fifteenth, but I have a feeling this one is going to make me wait," Etsuko replied, easing herself down onto the bench with a grateful sigh. "His sister was easy, but this one..." She grimaced and patted her belly. "He's so busy. It's always kick, kick, kick. And I've had morning sickness almost the whole time with him."

"You poor thing. You know it's a boy?"

"It's a boy. I have a Hyuuga midwife, so there's no question. We decided we wanted to know in advance, so we could help prepare Yumi-chan for it." She nodded at her daughter, who was swinging with abandon, long hair streaming behind her.

"Your husband must be pleased," remarked Manami.

"Oh, he says he's happy as long as the baby is healthy. So am I, of course. But I think he's glad he'll have a son. Someone to carry on the family name and all that. We're calling him Genma, after his great-grandfather." She waved a delicate hand in the air. Etsuko was a pretty woman, Manami thought. She had lighter hair than her daughter's, and the same light eyes, though shadowed with fatigue.

Etsuko brushed damp hair back from her forehead and sighed. "This heat is going to be the death of me."

"Raidou was born at the end of August, two years ago," Manami said sympathetically. "It was miserable being pregnant in the middle of summer. Of course I suppose Takahiro and I should have thought about that nine months before, but we were newlyweds, and..." She laughed lightly.

"I don't even have that for an excuse." Etsuko smiled wryly. "But Yuuichi was just back from a mission, and I was about to leave on one last October. And you know how it is..."

"I do," Manami said. "I really do. So you went back to active status after your daughter was born?"

"I stayed out for a year and a half, but then yes. The village needed me, and to be honest, I was starting to get a little bored with diaper duty. So Yumi went into day care and I went back to taking missions. Short-term ones with low risk, but at least I was doing something useful. Yuuichi was really understanding about it all."

"I'm thinking maybe I'll get back on the rolls this fall. I hope. I haven't talked to Takahiro about it yet."

"You haven't talked to your husband about it?"

"Well. A little. I've dropped hints, but he's been busy with missions lately, and chasing after a two year old is so tiring... Sometimes it's all we can do to give each other a goodnight kiss. Forget about conversation."

Etsuko nodded. "I hope he's understanding. It might help if you tell him you want to keep your skills sharp so you can teach your son the craft. Or at least that helped me when I brought it up." She grinned conspiratorially.

Before Manami could answer, Yumiko, who had left the swings and been prodding at some tall grasses bordering the pond, came walking carefully back, holding something in her cupped hands. The stem of her pinwheel was tucked under one arm, with the colorful head bapping against her shoulder with each step.

Raidou, who had lost interest in his puddle, raced over to her, reaching for the pinwheel. Yumiko backed up, struggling to keep both her toy and what was in her hands out of the toddler's reach. "No. It's mine," she told him.

Raidou's face scrunched up in consternation, and he made another grab for her.

"No, baby!" Yumiko scolded. "This is for big girls."

He stood his ground, watching her. When her attention wavered for a moment, he made his move.

In an instant, Yumiko was wailing. "Mom! Mom, the baby took my frog!"

Manami was swiftly on her feet; Etsuko, struggling with her pregnant bulk, took a moment longer.

"He's eating it!"

For a frozen moment, both women stared at the toddler. Raidou stared back, brown eyes wide and solemn. His hands, carefully wrapped around his prize, continued towards his mouth.

"Raidou, no!" Manami barked.

The hands slowed, but didn't stop. His stare intensified.

"It's mine!" Yumiko shouted. "Bad baby! Give it back!" She snatched at Raidou's hands and dropped her pinwheel.

Raidou, evidently already having a ninja's sense of the wisdom of retreat when faced with overwhelming force, stuffed whatever he held into his mouth, turned tail, and ran.

He got as far as the swing set before Manami caught up to him, swept her fingers into his mouth, and dislodged a small, green, lifeless frog. One leg dangled, bitten nearly through.

Yumiko clutched her mud-smeared pinwheel and sobbed against her mother's knees.

Raidou screamed, enraged, then choked off. Silent seconds ticked by as he grew redder and tenser, inhaling for a mighty outburst. When his wails resumed, a cloud of pebbles lifted around him, intermingled with raw chakra in a halo of dust.

Manami counted ten. Then she folded her fingers into seals, called chakra into her fingertips, and laid a hand on her son's head. The pebbles dropped, his screaming abruptly stopped, then rose again, startled crying this time, instead of the rage-fit of moments before. She dropped the jutsu and picked him up, crooning in his ear.

Etsuko had already sat down again, and produced a small juice box from one of her pockets. Yumiko was tearfully sipping the juice, and sniffling, casting forlorn glances at the dead frog, and baleful ones at Raidou.

"I have two, if he can have apple juice," Etsuko offered.

"It's all right, I brought his bottle," Manami replied. She sat down too, bouncing a not-quite placated Raidou on her knees, and fished in her diaper bag. When she handed him the bottle, Raidou stuck it in his mouth with a sullen pout.

"You're in for a whole new world, if you're having a boy," Manami said. "That frog was hardly the worst thing I've caught him putting in his mouth."

"Probably," Etsuko said with a rueful smile. "Although Yumi-chan here gave us plenty of trouble."

"I never eated a frog," Yumiko said, coming out of her sulk.

"Ate. You never ate a frog," Etsuko corrected. "And you're right, you didn't. But you tried to eat a lizard when you were two."

Yumiko laughed. "I did not, Mommy. That's silly. I didn't eat a lizard."

"Oh, yes you did," Etsuko said. "Silly girl. Your daddy told me all about it. But you're a big girl now. Are you going to go swing?"

"Yes!" She handed her mother her empty juice box and sprinted towards the swings again.

"If only all life's problems were so easily fixed," Manami observed.

"Down!" Raidou said. He looked around worriedly. "Down down down potty!"

"Oh dear," Manami said.

"Toilet training?" asked Etsuko.

Manami nodded. "If he says he has to go..."

"Potty down!" Raidou whimpered, squirming in Manami's arms.

"Right over there," Etsuko laughed, pointing towards the public restroom.

"Yes, thank you!" Manami was already on her feet, carrying Raidou in one arm and her diaper bag over the other. "I hope we'll see you again. Good luck with your new one!"

When they came back, Etsuko and Yumiko had gone, leaving the pinwheel stuck in the park bench, spinning gaily in the withering sun. There was a note with it, written in elegantly spare kanji: For Raidou from Yumiko. I'm sorry I knocked you down. Don't eat any more frogs. It was signed with Yumiko's name in childish print, and stamped with Shiranui Etsuko's seal.

When Manami gave it to him, Raidou waved the pinwheel excitedly in the air. "Frog!" he shouted. Manami laughed. "Pinwheel!" she told him. "Frog!" he agreed.

It was shaping up to be a lovely summer.

ooooo

For Darksideofstorm, who writes a grown-up Raidou to my Genma in Fallen Leaves.

Sano is Desperately Sick

2009-10-25T03:43:16Z

My little six month old rat Sano has crashed and crashed hard. Friday morning he was healthy, lively and running around, Friday evening he was listless and breathing hard. I rushed him (and his two brothers, who were sneezing a bit) to Adobe Animal Hospital last night, and got them all on Vbramycin and Baytril.

The vet said he looked pink so he didn't need oxygen, so I brought him home. About an hour after I got home, though, his breathing worsened and he started to gasp. Since I have a nebulizer for my asthma, I gave him a nebulizer treatment with levalbuterol and ipratropium (the two medicines I'd use on myself for distressed breathing) and that seemed to help, as he settled down and was breathing easier. I have given him breathing treatments every six hours since then, with no further signs of severe respiratory distress, but things are not looking good.

The other two boys are lively and energetic, but Sano is continuing to do really poorly. He is lethargic to the point of limpness. He won't eat or drink, so I've been syringe-feeding him Yakult (a sugary, probiotic drink made from yogurt) and pudding, neither of which he'll take willingly. I am worried about dehydration, and have given him two CCs of subcutaneous Ringer's lactate. I'd like to give him more, but the largest syringes I have are one CC, and I don't want to have to give him lots of needle sticks.

jbmcdragoncame over today for lunch, and she did some energy work on him, and I've been giving him energy work, too. She said he feels like he's at a crossroads, and I hate to say it, but I agree with her. I've been telling him over and over how much I love him, and how much I want him to fight this infection and stay with me, but I just don't know how much good that's doing.

I have no idea what else can I do for him besides keeping him warm and in calm surroundings, and letting him know how much I love him. Should I be forcing more food into him with the syringe, even though he fights me? Should I give him more subQ fluids? If any of you have ideas about what to do, tell me. I know some of the people who read this LJ have nursed other sick animals, and maybe you'll have some ideas I don't.

If nothing else, please keep Sano in your thoughts and prayers.

National Punctuation Day!

2009-10-24T03:55:55Z

~~October~~ September 24 is was National Punctuation Day, or so says Sylvia. Who am I to doubt? To (belatedly) honor the day, I suggest you make a vow to use apostrophes correctly in possessives and contractions, observing the tricky intersection of the two in the well-known it’s/its conundrum*, plural possessives**, and possessives of words and names that end in S***.

If you're feeling even more fervent, you could try using correctly typeset quotation marks and apostrophes, “like this” and ‘this’. You could even get fancier and use proper em dashes (—) and ellipses (…) though that takes looking up the codes or playing around with your keyboard until you find them. And really, it’s kind of a pain in the ass to put correct curly quotes in. Unless I’m typesetting something for print, I usually don’t bother.

Now if only I could convince sign makers that quotation marks do not give emphasis so much as lend irony. There’s a service station near me that has a sign: We “now” offer smog checks! Which of course begs the question, what exactly are they being ironic about? An ironic now is an interesting thing: do they really mean perhaps in the indefinite past or future? Never?

It probably says something worrisome about me that this bugs me as much as it does. But then you already know I have concerns about the usability of punctuation and can be something of a geek on the topic.

Happy Punctuation Day! ~~Only a month late…~~

*It’s/its conundrum: it is or it has = it’s; belonging to it = its
You can remember this rule more easily, perhaps, if you consider that other pronoun-based possessives such as his, hers, theirs, and ours also do not take an apostrophe.

**Singular vs. plural possessives: a single cow’s calf; multiple cows’ calves

***Possessives from names that end in S: Hades is the Greek god of the dead. Hades’s domain is the underworld. (It is also considered correct to drop the final S, and say Hades’ domain, but I have a preference for using the duplicated S.)