One of my favorite new obsessions is the genre of Steampunk. I love the old Victorian look, combined with the mad dreams of Jules Verne and H.G.Wells, combined with the adventure of all of the writers of that time, as well as the romance.
It's such a romantic thing, I decided to dress up as a Steampunk "gentleman inventor" for my Halloween wedding:
Yes, that dork is me. The beautiful princess is the Mid-Wife. Be jealous.
I'm trying to work on some other genre items for this coming Halloween, but I haven't finished them yet. I will post when I do.
In the meantime if you're interested in some Steampunk livin', check these site out:
Finally starting to figure out a schedule and where this thing is going...
You Lost Me...
A serial story
The corner drugstore was not much different when he spent long afternoons standing around when he was younger. He remembered not having too much of a reason to be standing in front of this store aside from being where most of his friends hung out. It was also owned by the Bitch's family.
He looked around and at his watch. It showed 6:23. He was torn between feeling bad at cutting his visit with Linda on the pretense of needing more rest and kicking himself for being so damn curious as to what the Bitch wanted to talk about. Hell, he needed to get away from the craziness that Linda was going on about. She had definitely threw him for a loop by letting all of her dreams of going to college go out the window for no better reason than... Well, she really didn't have a real reason, if he thought about it...
"Crap, I bet she left," he said into the air. The Bitch was crazy as well, but not the kind he found himself hanging out if he could help it. He started to remember the girl he used to know, but he couldn't get past the abrupt change she went through all of a sudden when they were younger.
A sound came from the alley behind the store, stopping any train of thought. He walked towards it and was surprised by the sudden appearance of the Bitch. "Hey!" he gasped, "Where did you come from?"
She gave him a look of disbelief, "Uh, from the side entrance, Stupid." Again, he forgot that she would have the keys.
He was about to defend his intelligence when she grabbed his arm and said, "Come on! Let's get inside so we can talk!" He followed with the reluctance of a chastised dog on a leash.
The side door led into the storage area behind the shop.The lights were still on, so he managed to miss tripping on the empty boxes left to be broken up for recycling. The place had a claustrophobic effect on him, with the shelves of medicine so close together to save space. He stifled a sneeze as dust was blown into his face as he knocked an old box of alcohol wipes in trying to avoid it. If the Bitch wanted to do something crazy to him, this would be the best place to do it, he thought to himself. He wouldn't make it to the door before...
And then she did the crazy thing...
She stopped suddenly, in front of him, spun around, grabbed his arms and kissed him so quick on the lips he worried that she might have chipped a tooth!
"What the hell, Carrie!?!" He pushed her away and felt his mouth for any blood he was sure she was trying to feed off from him.
"NOTHING!!!" She screamed,"Nothing! That was weird!"
"Really!?!" He rubbed his lip, "I would've called it fucking crazy! Bloody bonkers! ANYTHING but weird!"
She gave him the same dismissive look she'd given him many times before. "No, I meant that kiss had nothing to it! It was like we had nothing between us."
He started to speak, but found himself stuck trying to figure out what he was mad at. "Were... Were you expecting something?"
Now it was her turn to stop and think about what to say. She looked at him, then at her feet, finally looking back up to meet his eyes. "Well, uh, the other night. I mean that kiss... There was something different about it..." Her words dropped off as she looked down at her hands. Craig hoped that she wasn't going to cry.
"Look, Carr," again, he went to the old nickname, "If you had wanted to talk to me about that, you didn't have to drag me across town to play 'Seven minutes in Heaven' in your father's store."
She looked up with a combination of anger and indignation. "Don't be an arrogant ass! I mean, the last time we kissed, it was like it was... All right, or something like that." She acted like she was trying to conceal something in her actions as she said that last part. "But this time, it was like kissing just for kissing sake."
Still feeling his sore lip, Craig found himself feeling sorry for her oily little boyfriend. Using that last thought, he decided to change the subject, "Where's your 'other half'?"
"Oh, yeah," She looked like now she was coming back to reality, "I think I know where he is. That's why I need you to help me. There are more things going on around here. Mr. Pearson attacking you and Jeffery missing are both a part of it."
He found himself biting his already sore lip upon hearing that last part. "What? What do need me to do?"
"I need you to borrow a car," said the Bitch as plainly as you please, "We need to make a road trip."
Craig grabbed his much-abused head. This was not good...
More next week...
PS - Hit the "publish post" button before going to bed.
Seems that the video Peter Sinclair (from the blog GreenFyre's) did debunking Anthony Watts of Watt's Up With That was flagged and deleted by You Tube.
Yep, Anthony Watts put in a copyright infringement claim to You Tube. This has been done before, as we've seen. Well, this time, You Tube had the video in question put before experts in US copyright issues, and guess what?
The video's back...
Now, I'm no big fan of both Climate Change Deniers and their detractors, but you don't pull this kind of childish bullshit! If you feel that you're being poorly represented, post back!
Also, if you're caught lying, fess up. Don't be a jackass. It's that simple...
Due to a nasty stomach flu I left work early yesterday and worked from home today.
The Mid-Wife was concerned that they might be upset that I took the day when the head manager is out on vacation. I told her not to worry, they knew I was sick yesterday, and I told them about staying home as early as I could. Everything should be fine,
Unfortunately, she was right. They were upset... But not because I called out sick.
It started when the second-in-command sent me an email to call him.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, "I see you doing work, but I thought you were going to try and come in today?"
"I'm OK, but I didn't get enough sleep last night from being sick, so I changed my mind. I tried contacting you sooner, but you were out."
"So you think it's the flu? Not food poisoning?"
That was a weird question, I thought. I didn't mention food poisoning. "No, my wife was in contact with someone at her job who came down with the stomach flu. So, I think that's probably what did me in. Also, I had a bout of food poisoning a month ago, and I got sick right after I ate the bad food. The first time I got sick now was late at night when I was sleeping. My wife ate the same thing as me for dinner, and she's fine."
Finally getting things back under control. Life is good, the Mid-Wife and I are checking out houses now, being that we've been talking seriously about raising a family.
Yeah, even I'm surprised at that one.
Also, I've been extremely fortunate to get back in touch with one of my oldest friends, Joe and his wife Toni-Ann, who I haven't seen in more than ten years. Between what hasn't changed and was has, taking time to catch up has been a big breath of fresh air. I'd be remiss not to mention that one of the biggest changes has been their two sweet, adorable kids, Victoria and Vincent, both of whom are quickly becoming part of my small group of favorite people on the planet.
A very small group, maybe, but important none-the-less. ;)
Let's get back to the story...
You Lost Me...
A serial story
Craig felt like the world was screaming at him all at once, his head was in a spin and nothing could help him now...
"Carrie! We haven't seen you here for years!"
Except his mother.
"Oh, come in dear!" his mother pleaded with the Bitch, "How's your mom? Craig's girlfriend Linda is here as well!"
Or, maybe not...
"Oh, Detective! I didn't see you there. You come in as well, can I get you something to drink?"
"No, I think maybe Craig needs some more time to heal." Dakins replied. His big hand grasped Craig's hand before he could react, and pressed a business card into it. "Call me when you get the time, OK?" He turned his large frame to the Bitch and handed another one to her, "You look like you may need this, too."
"Uh, sure, huh, thanks," she said while still trying to avoid Craig's stare. "I think I should leave, too," she said to Craig's mother.
"Nonsense! Come in! Why, you haven't come around here since you and Craig were little!"
This was true. He and Carrie had been good friends when they were younger. She was the neighborhood tomboy and was the best "bottlecaps" player. Unfortunately, Craig couldn't see that young girl he once knew, just the Bitch she became.
"Mom? Can you give us a minute?" he deplored to his mother, "She, uh, just wants to ask me something quick."
His mother looked a little disappointed, "OK, but don't forget Linda." She walked away leaving a faint smell of developer in her wake.
Craig screwed up his nerve and looked at Carrie. "Are you crazy, Bit...," he caught himself before finishing, "I mean, Carr?" He surprised himself by using his old nickname for her.
"No. I mean maybe. I don't know," she looked more stunned than he was by the name, "Look, somethings going on around here and I think it's affecting us and everybody else!"
Craig took a step back and looked at her. She seemed serious, but he hadn't seen that look in some time, so he wasn't sure. "Are you talking about the party? Look, that was... I don't know! I don't want to talk about it now!"
"Talk about what? Oh, that. Look, that may be part of it or not, but I'm not concerned about that," She said more rational than Craig would've given her credit for. "Meet me later at the corner drug store downtown, if you don't want to talk here. I'll be there until six."
He wanted to tell her off, but she turned around and strode away with a determination better left alone. He rubbed his head and tried to understand what just happened. Was something really going on, or was the world just going crazy?
"Uh, what was she doing here?"
Linda's voice snapped him back into reality with a cold feeling in his stomach. "She's crazy, nothing new, Hon," he turned to face her and was met with a stare that would've frozen a bull in it's tracks, "She's, uh, looking for her oily boyfriend or something. I told her I didn't know anything."
She looked at him like she didn't believe a thing that came out of his mouth, but she just said, "Fine. Let's get back to what we were talking about, right?"
They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about colleges and why it suddenly wasn't a good idea for her to go anymore. She said that maybe he was right, maybe she needed to take time off to "find herself". She recently came to the decision that all of her planning for college may have been crazy, and there was something else waiting for her.
Craig tried to understand where she was coming from, but this was so different from what she was normally that he found himself confused. All he could say was that maybe she should think about it, maybe she was just letting her fears get the best of her. All this did was make her mad that he didn't understand where she was coming from.
Also, his constantly checking the time didn't help...
Finally, another one done! More soon, staring to make multiple post ahead of time.
Getting home after yesterday's events was thankfully quiet and relaxed, aside from his mother making a side comment about underage drinking and that she was glad that things weren't worse. She must have been saving these for when she was sure that Craig would be a receptive captive audience.
In his room, in the darkness, he contemplated the past events like a puzzle that had no border pieces and no box top to refer to. He knew that nothing that happened had a rational connection, but he couldn't shake the sensation that he should be seeing something else. That sensation was to last until he fell to sleep.
A few hours later he was awoken to the fact that his bed was occupied by an obstacle that occupied the space between his feet. Assuming it was the cat, he made an effort to flip it off of the bed with his foot, but found that the weight was much more than feline mass. He opened his eyes to find his sister staring at him.
"Ah good, you're not dead," she said as she pushed his foot away from her leg, "Linda's here."
He rubbed his eyes with the back of his fingers, and blinked at her, "Why didn't you just call me or shake me awake?"
"Didn't know what would happen," she shrugged, "What if you sat up to quickly and your brains fell out of your nose? Mom probably would've made me clean it up."
Craig laughed at this absurdity, "Aww, I think my little sister is concerned about her big brother." He made cooing sounds as he sat up and lunged to hug her. As he expected, she dodged the attempt while screaming, "FREAK! Just get up and get downstairs so Linda can see you!" She slammed the door on her way out.
Changing out of his shorts into his jeans and t-shirt, he strained to remember what Linda had said the day before. He knew that she wanted to talk to him, but couldn't exactly remember what her mood was. He hoped that she had forgotten as well.
He didn't believe it for one minute, but one could hope.
As he got downstairs he saw Linda on the couch, nervously flipping through his mom's photography magazines. "Hey, Love. You wanted to see me?" he asked as his feet neared the last few steps.
She dropped the magazine she had in her hands and stood up, tripping as she tried to make it over the coffee table in one action. "Oh, I'm sooo sorry that you got hurt because of me!" she apologized as she righted herself. He put his hands around her when he got to where she stood, "What are you talking about? You didn't cause someone to attack me."
Her blue eyes were wet with tears as she hugged back, "No, if I hadn't made you rush over because of my doubts, you never would have gotten into that at all!"
Craig couldn't help looking at the celling when she said that. She did find out about him and the Bitch, and now she was going to let him have it.
"Look, it not what you think..." he started.
"No, it isn't," Linda interrupted, "It's worse. I don't know what I want to do."
"We can get through this. Really, Love, it's just a stupid mistake."
"That's right!" she cried, "I mean, why am I looking into colleges anyway?"
Craig was taken aback by this; Linda did nothing but go on about going to college for all of the time they had been going out. Even chiding him about his choice of "taking time out to find himself" when they had their occasional tiffs. This wasn't like her at all.
Before he could clear this up in his head, they were interrupted by a knock at the door.
Craig excused himself and walked over to the door. He opened it to find Detective Dakins standing off to the side of the porch. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was hoping to have a talk with you if you were up to it," the detective's deep voice rumbled.
"This really isn't a good time. Can it wait?"
"Well normally I'd say yes, but a couple of things have come up. First: we found your bike and some of Mr. Pearson's stuff next to it a mile from where you were attacked. Also: there's something else you might want to know about..."
Craig tried to suppress a groan, "What else?"
The dark-suited man moved to the other side of the porch, revealing a familiar red-headed figure trying not to look up at Craig.
"She's been waiting outside your house for half an hour," the deep voice informed, "You know her?"
Craig felt his headache coming back with a vengeance...
I put something in my Facebook that I should have known was going to cause a issue with people.
I put in an anti-Jenny McCarthy post.
I forgot that my cousin has a child that has been diagnosed with autism.
Needless to say, that did not go over well.
The bad thing is that I forgot that it's hard to argue a point with someone so close to home.
Nothing I said was taken in the context with which it was meant. It was taken personally by my cousin and her husband. They saw it as if I was belitting their knowledge of the subject. They said that I was being one-sided, when I was just pointing out that things aren't always what they seem at face value.
In short, they got offended. This wasn't what I intended, and I'm kicking myself for it.
I'm going to take it as a learning experience; people take things personally when it's their issue, and you can't try to be rational about it to them. You just end up looking like a jerk.
Suck in some air around you. Go ahead, get a lungful or two.
Practically all of the oxygen you're breathing in has been created as a waste product by plants using chlorophyll in photosynthesis to create food. Chlorophyll is nature's own solar power collector.
So really, something so natural and necessary to your life, you wouldn't be surprised to find out it can do more amazing things, right?
During the fifties people discovered chorophyll's power to deoderize everything. From bad breath, to foot odor, even the rest of your body; there was a powder, soap or foam to make use of chlorophyll's amazing properties.
That is until "The Journal of the American Medical Association" made note of the fact that mountain goats lived excusively on a chlorophyll-rich diet.
You ever smell a goat? Ever get close enough for a whiff of billy-goat breath?
This reminds me of the time I was still living with my parents and doing late night shifts at the restaurant where I worked at the time.
On my days off I would stay up late watching TV until I fell asleep in the living room. My mother, a notorious insomniac, would sometimes stay up watching TV with me. Usually we watched old movies, but occasionally a really bad horror film would come on. Usually, these movies would make her go to bed.
One night they had on It's Alive. If you haven't seen it, it's about mutant baby that goes around killing people when it gets frightened.
His reality coming back slowly in-between sharp stings of pain: Craig found himself echoing the same questions he heard before the attack.
"Do I know me?"
"Am I OK?
"How many fingers am I holding up?
Wait, those questions weren't what he heard before. He was also pretty sure the voice asking them had a different accent than his normal internal voice. He slowly focused his eyes, and asked, "Fingers?"
"Oh good, you're coming around," he heard the now human shape in front of him say, "We were worried you took a harder hit to the head." It was Jim's older brother, Kyle. He was part of the town's small paramedic force.
"I... what... head?" Craig tried to look around for a large pool of blood and brains that had to have leaked out of the hole in his head that was causing him such pain, but another set of hands held his head steady. "My bike! Linda! She's going to kill me!" He started to sit up way too quickly for his bruised cranium to tolerate.
"You're not going anywhere, Craig. We need to take you in to make sure that you're really OK," Kyle grabbed Craig's arm, "Someone will contact Linda and your family to let them know where you'll be."
Craig tried to argue, but a head full of sharp edged thoughts made this an exercise in futility. They carried him on a backboard to a waiting stretcher which was wheeled into an ambulance. As they took him to the local hospital, Craig struggled to think of what had happened and what he did to deserve this.
His mother's hand stroked his as they waited for the results of the examinations and tests that had filled Craig's last few hours. "You'll be fine," she repeated every few minutes. This seemed to be more of a mantra for her own self-reassurance than Craig's, but he knew she was only concerned and feeling helpless. It did make him feel better that he wasn't the only one.
His sister walked into the exam room with a bottle of soda for his mother, "Is he going to be OK? Or, am I getting his room?"
"Kelly, don't say things like that!" their mother admonished her. She stopped petting Craig's hand to grab the soda bottle with one hand while smacking his sister with the other.
The doctor walked in a that moment, saving Kelly from further scolding. A man in a dark suit jacket followed him in. "Craig, it looks like you suffered a nasty concussion and need stitches for that gash on your head. Thankfully, no fractures or any other injury, but we are going to need you to stay overnight of observation." His bald head looked as shiny as the glasses he wore in the lighting of the emergency room. He took off the glasses and pointed at the man behind him, "Detective Dakins would like to talk with you about the attack, if you feel up to it."
"Can it wait, Detective?" Craig's mother asked, "He's still feeling achy, and he needs to rest."
"Wait, Mom," Craig put his hand on her arm, "I want to ask him some stuff too."
"OK," she looked at the rest of the room, "Your sister and I will wait outside. Let us know when you're done," As they walked out the door, Detective Dakins told the doctor to stay, he wasn't going to ask many questions. He agreed and grabbed Craig's chart to make some notes.
"What do you remember about what happened?" He asked Craig in a surprisingly deep voice.
"Not much," Craig shrugged while responding. He related the glimpse of gray he saw and the qusetions he heard before he hit the ground and the world went black. "All the rest is coming to and ending up here."
"The person who attacked you was a Mr. Hugh Pearson. You have any issue with him?"
Craig was shocked. Mr. Pearson was an older man from the neighborhood; he had known him from his bike route when he was a paperboy. The worst problem he had with him was being late with the paper a couple of mornings. "No, I barely had any contact with him. He seemed OK. What else did he...?"
He was cut off in mid-sentence by some commotion out in the hallway. Not a few seconds later the noise made its way into his room: it was Linda, with his own father walking behind her saying, "See? He'll be OK. Just needed to be seen by the doctor." His mastery of understatement did little to make Linda stop crying.
"I'll talk with you later, when things calm down," Det. Dakins said as he walked back out the door, nodding at Craig's parent and the doctor.
It took another half hour before Linda was calm enough to talk about how he felt and how bad she was for being mad at him earlier. They talked a for a while before she left with his family when the nurse told them they were going to take him to an observation room and get him ready for bed. Craig was somewhat thankful for the silence.
Afterwards, that night, he could have sworn he saw a red-headed nurse move about in his room.