Summertime Indulgences

So, remember when Data showed Dr. Crusher his “On/Off” switch in the first season episode, “Datalore”? Even if you don’t remember or have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about, just nod. It’ll make me happy.

I think I found my “On/Off” switch for work. I found it on Saturday, the second my supervisor told me that I could leave the onsite meeting we had all been working downtown last week. I flicked that switch off faster than Data replaced all the isolinear chips down in Engineering during “The Naked Now.” (Again, just smile and nod.) I spent from Saturday through last night in an undisclosed Southern location with a whole passel of family, consuming mass quantities of delectable food and beer and just enjoying the transformation of my neural pathways into blobby tapioca pudding. It was wonderful.

I can’t seem to get the switch to turn back on though. I’ve been here all day, trying to focus on a task that I do every year, only this year it’s taking me far longer. I don’t think my brain is quite ready to return to active duty. So I’ve been coaxing it along in the most ridiculous of ways. For every page I complete of this task before me, I allow myself to read a page from the latest story I’ve been perusing on one of my consistently favorite Web sites EVAR: FanFiction.net.

I love fan fiction. You can’t really be as big a nerd as I am and not at least have read some of it. I read a lot of it. Not as much as I used to, but I’ve been getting back into it lately. Some of it is breathtakingly beautiful, written with a care and talent that rivals or sometimes surpasses the professionals. Of course, some of it is achingly atrocious. I can suss out the truly horrid works quite quickly most of the time, but I have to confess that I delight when I find a gem among the sludge. And FanFiction.net is probably one of the largest collections of fanfic anywhere on the Internet, with stories on almost any television show, movie, cartoon, manga, etc. They’ve even got Golden Girls fanfic (no, I haven’t read any of that; I know what takes place in some of the other fanfics I’ve read, and I don’t think I could handle reading something similar about any of that cast).

Yeah yeah, I’ve written it, too. You can’t find mine online anymore. I keep it under lock and key now and only show it to those who are really in my good graces. There’s nothing that can test the bonds of friendship quite like sharing bad fanfic written by a teenage Trek geek who hasn’t experienced anything beyond school and a deep burning love for a nerdy sci-fi show 😉

To be honest, I still write fanfic, but only in my head. I haven’t put any of the stories to paper since I was in college, but I carry around certain stories inside my messy tangle of a brain, and I dip in every now and again to push along the plot. I have my favorites. One takes place on Deep Space Nine and Bajor and centers on a character I actually created for something else a long time ago, but kind of found a more permanent home in my Trek files. You don’t get anymore than that though. Yes, that’s right: I’m a Trek tease.

I don’t really have more to say beyond this. I suppose this was a purely indulgent post, but I really don’t have anything relevant or poignant to say. How about this? I’ll repost the cover I drew for my fanfic. I used to have it in my old site’s portfolio section. I haven’t really put pencil to paper since I drew this. I was never happy with it and finally just gave up. Besides, PhotoShop just makes everything so much easier now…

Brain Dump

That heading sounds disgusting, doesn’t it? Unfortunately, that’s what I’m about to drop on you now. I promise it won’t be too messy though. I’m just in a bit of a work maelstrom right now and am finding it difficult to surface for long periods of time. For those familiar with my mirror universe existence, this time of year is always one of the busiest work-wise. It’s one of two major drawbacks to a job that I’m still mostly loving (those of you who know the mirror universe me also already know what the other major drawback is, but that’s not for public airing ;-)).

So what’s been going on since we last chatted? Well, first off I spent a wonderful weekend in the company of a great friend who flew in to spend a few days in Lobalandia. She moved to the cold nether regions of the American heartland a bit more than a year ago, which I have to say stinks for us here. However, this weekend was solid evidence that great friendships are like your favorite University of Maryland hoodie: Even though you don’t get to wear it as often as you’d like, when you do slip back into it, it’s just as warm and comfortable as you always remembered it being (and it smells Downy fresh, too!).

The highlight of the weekend (and the reason for my friend’s return) was the Tori Amos concert on Saturday evening. In case you’ve missed this, I love Tori. This was concert number 9, I believe, and it was wonderful. Truth be told, the last few times I’ve seen her haven’t been stellar because of poor sound quality at the last one and poor sound and fan quality at the one before that. But this concert was market-worthy, it sounded so pristine. Plus, it’s an extra special treat to see her when she comes to D.C., because that means she’s come home (face it, Tori…it doesn’t matter how far away you move, your heart belongs to the Dirty City). The set list for the evening was as follows:

  1. Give (Abnormally Attracted to Sin)
  2. Body and Soul (American Doll Posse)
  3. Cornflake Girl (Under the Pink)
  4. Flavor (Abnormally Attracted to Sin)
  5. Space Dog (Under the Pink)
  6. Hotel (From The Choirgirl Hotel)
  7. Jamaica Inn (The Beekeeper)
  8. Icicle (Under the Pink)
  9. Carbon (Scarlet’s Walk)
  10. Mary Jane (Abnormally Attracted to Sin)
  11. Gold Dust (Scarlet’s Walk)
  12. Pretty Good Year (Under the Pink)
  13. a sorta fairytale (Scarlet’s Walk)
  14. Fast Horse (Abnormally Attracted to Sin)
  15. Precious Things (Little Earthquakes)
  16. Strong Black Vine (Abnormally Attracted to Sin)
  17. Bouncing off Clouds (American Doll Posse)
  18. Raspberry Swirl (From The Choirgirl Hotel)
  19. Big Wheel (American Doll Posse)

As you can tell, it was a pretty solid set with lots of perennial favorites mixed with some of the stronger offerings from her latest CD. I wish she had done more than just “Precious Things” from her first CD, but I was happy to hear so much from Under the Pink. Noticeably missing were any songs from Boys for Pele and Strange Little Girls, two CDs that I consider to be weaker links in the Tori musical chain.

I think the only major criticism I have of this concert is fan-related: I hate when people stand/sway/dance. I get that some people simply cannot resist the pull of the rhythm. But, dammit, I paid for a seat. Seats are for sitting so that I can comfortably listen to the music. Seats are not for getting an eye-level view of the woman in front of me pulling her underwear out of her bum crack as she stands dancing to practically every song (yes, I am talking about you with the navy blue pleated skirt and matching button-down vest; perhaps if you fed your ass before a concert, it wouldn’t get so hungry and try to devour your underwear every time you got up).

Small complaint, I suppose, for what was otherwise an excellent concert. If you’d like to see what I saw and hear what I heard, head on over to Undented.com’s review of the show. This is where I got the set list for that night; I personally don’t see how Twittering, texting, snapping photos, and recording video makes for an enjoyable concert experience, but obviously there are lots of people out there who don’t feel the same.

Okay, I need to split now. Hopefully, I’ll be back later this afternoon to make my latest 50BC09 entry. Finally, halfway there!!

Dirty, Dirty Girl

How sad is it that I’ve been sat here for about 10 minutes, giggling over this:

sshrc

In case you don’t have the same horribly dirty mind that your humble hostess has, it’s the trackback link that’s left me laughing: “YOU ARE IN: Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton.”

See, now I’m laughing while typing this. As much as I love Hillary, I don’t want to be quite that close. Besides, shouldn’t I at least buy her dinner first?

Dirty minds aside, if you all missed Secretary Clinton’s appearance this past Sunday on Meet the Press, then here is the transcript from her appearance. Thank you to A2, both for supplying the link and the laugh.

Slurpee Jonesin’

The Gateway Slurp
The Gateway Slurp

I have a horrible confession: I kept a big secret from you all this weekend, and I did it intentionally. This past Saturday, July 11, was Free Slurpee Day at 7-Eleven. You could go into any 7-Eleven Convenience Store anywhere in the country and get a free 7.11-ounce Slurpee (get it? Free 7.11-ounce Slurpee at 7-Eleven on 7/11? Clever, eh?).

Why didn’t I tell you? Because I didn’t want to run the chance of you standing between me and my free shot of Slurpee Love. Yes, I’m serious. No, it’s not rational. I don’t care. You have no idea how excited I was about Free Slurpee Day. I have forgotten every single damned time ever since I first learned about it about 2 or 3 years ago. This year, I was NOT going to forget. I did everything short of branding the date onto my forearm.

I love Slurpees. They are the most syrupy-sweet, sugar-packed, enamel-rotting, brain-freezing, diabetic-coma-inducing cup full of high fructose happiness ever. I used to drink them all the time. I also used to be two clothing sizes bigger than I am now. Needless to say, it’s been probably more than a decade since the last time I had a Slurpee fix. As much as I miss them, my waistline is grateful for the moratorium.

So why open the door? Uh, hello? Did I mention they were free? And yes, I said they. I went to two different 7-Eleven stores that day. I’m not ashamed to admit it. And they were delicious. I had one blue raspberry and one wild cherry/cola combo, which was always my favorite choice when I was a Slurpee junkie.

I fantasized all day Sunday about finding a 7-Eleven that was extending the free Slurpee day to encompass the whole weekend. But I didn’t go back into any of the stores. I kind of like fitting into my clothes a little more than I like that sugar rush.

Guess I’m just going to have to wait until next year to satisfy my itch. And now you all know about the free treat, too. Just one warning: Don’t get in between me and that Slurpee machine. We don’t want any incidents on such a happy day, do we?

LBS Test

This is a test of the LobaBlanca Blogcasting Service (this is also apparently a very slow Friday at the office).

So, see the little tab on the left that reads “Contact”? This is me meeting you halfway. I’ve had a couple of regular readers say that they’d really like it if I activated my comments section. I still say I’m not ready (how can I be such a technological Luddite? It’s hard, I tell ya).

But, I love hearing from you. I really do! So this is my halfway point. Click the tab and you’ll be able to drop me a line just as quickly and easily as leaving a comment. No, it won’t get posted for the world to read; think of it instead as your very own personal subspace frequency straight to the head of Starfleet Command. You’ll get to make your comment; I’ll get to read it; you’ll even get a fun auto-responder message at the end!

We’ll see how this goes; if it proves successful, I’ll keep it around for a while. I might even post some of the more entertaining messages I receive now and then…

Webmaster? Stain Master!

Ever wonder why the Berber carpet used in most office workplaces is the most heinous looking kaleidoscope weave imaginable? It’s so when your red-dyed soda explodes all over the place the minute you pop the tab, no one’s really going to notice. It just blends right in with all the other garish color splotches. Who knows, maybe that’s how they make this carpet in the first place.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, this post was brought to you by the word “Procrastination.”

spilldoctor

The Bittersweet Life of Xena…Weave-Uh-Diva Sista?

Amazon.com has done it again with some impeccable recommendation work for me. Based on my past purchases of Xena DVDs, they have recommended a book: Chocolate Lemons and Peppermint Tears: The Bittersweet Life of Xena. Behold the Amazon.com book description:

Set in Los Angeles in the mid-1990’s, Chocolate Lemons and Peppermint Tears: The Bittersweet Life of Xena, tells the poignant, funny, sexy, in your face, and very relatable tale of Xena Quay Vaughan, an attractive, successful, slightly neurotic, never been married black woman in her mid-thirties, who struggles desperately with getting over a married man; her perceived weight problem; being celibate for almost two years; being a natural sista in a weave-uh-diva world, her free-spirited best friend, Renee, with her “I don’t give a damn” attitude; finally meeting and falling in love with “the one;” and a mind-boggling encounter between the married man and her lover. This story will leave you wanting more – like seconds at Thanksgiving.

Um. Yeah.

In Amazon’s defense, the name Xena is unique enough that it’s a fair assumption that any appearance of the name would be in reference to that familiar warrior princess. You’d think, though, that a company called Amazon would have a special knack at picking out the real protector of the Queen of the Amazons, wouldn’t you? I mean, really.

Too nerdy? Okay. I’ll reel it back a little.

I love that in this book, Xena’s best friend is named Ren

Presidential Age-Off: Bartlet v. Roslin

Two of my all-time favorite television shows are Aaron Sorkin’s The West Wing and Ron Moore’s reboot of Battlestar Galactica. Interestingly enough, at the heart of both shows is a strong vein of politics played both fairly and deceptively (not that big a surprise from the former show, but a lovely layer of the latter that made it such a pleasure to watch).

Both shows also featured presidents, one of the United States and one of what’s left of the 12 colonies of Caprica. Martin Sheen played U.S. President Jed Bartlet, a bright beacon of hope during the dismal darkness of the real Bush II presidency. Mary McDonnell portrayed Laura Roslin, former Secretary of Education who found herself thrust into the presidency when all in line before her were killed in the Cylon attack on Caprica that started the BSG journey.

Beyond the obvious similarities, both of these presidents held health secrets from their constituents. Bartlet had relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis. By the end of the show, the disease was causing a rapid and noticeable decay of his body.

In the very first episode of BSG, Roslin learns that she has terminal cancer. By the end of BSG…well…like I said, she had terminal cancer. I’m sure you can figure this one out on your own.

Now even under the healthiest situations, a president always leaves his station looking much more bedraggled and aged than he did coming into it. Look at recent evidence. Du(m)bya left looking much older than the actual numbers of his age (or his IQ). And the only way Clinton was still feeling young at the end of his presidency was when he was groping up interns in the Oval Office. Several have even pointed out that Obama is already starting to show more gray than he did prior to January 20, 2009.

Add the strain of an incurable disease and you’re bound to look even more wrung out, right? Certainly was the case with President Bartlet.

bartlet-bae

In the beginning, he was a middle-aged statesman, with still dark hair and minimal lines to his face. He was commanding and centered and the White House was bright with hope in his presence. By the end, however, he’d gone gray with white at his temples, the lines had deepened, his stance slouched and aided by a cane, and the brightness of his new administration slowly dimming to a close (aren’t these photographers just too clever?).

Yes, I’m sure that some of this was makeup decisions done to enhance the strain of both being president and fighting a once relapsed illness that is now making up for wasted time.

BUT…then there is Laura Roslin.

roslin-bae

To borrow that ridiculous BSG epithet: What the frack?!

Seriously, I cannot even begin to express the joy I felt inside when I saw Mary McDonnell that first time as Laura Roslin. It had been a while since I had last seen her, and then there she was, wrinkles and crow’s feet, and looking absolutely beautiful. Even better, she looked REAL. And I was filled with so much hope and happiness that here was an actress who was embracing her age and all the lines that came with it, and doing it with incomparable grace.

This second photo is how she appeared in the final season. You could bounce a quarter off her face, it’s so tight. Dull, expressionless forehead. No more lines around her eyes or her mouth. What you don’t see in this photo, but what was depressingly obvious in the show, is the fact that this “youthful” appearance came with a price. One side of her mouth droops now as though she’s had a stroke. Her eyes also don’t always blink synchronously anymore.

This was supposed to be a woman who was leading the remnants of a destroyed world through the unknown dangers of space while fighting a seemingly unstoppable Cylon enemy and being slowly consumed by incurable cancer. But this is how she looked at the end. Yes, they did her up on the show with pale makeup and a “cancer” wig (which is what she’s wearing in this second photo). But that face…

It was perfectly acceptable to show the progression of age and illness with Bartlet, but Roslin not only had to lead the colonists to earth, but she had to do it while apparently paying regular visits to Doc Cottle for galactic Botox injections. Maybe he was really just injecting her cancer treatments straight into her face and this was the end result.

jlange

Obviously, what I’m really doing at this point is screaming into the roar of the Hollywood machine that makes women feel less than publicly acceptable if they dare show even one shadow of an age line on their face. How else can we explain this recent photo of the now perpetually surprised Jessica Lange? Would you have even known this was Lange had I not identified her? I sure as hell didn’t recognize her without a caption.

And why is this acceptable? Because we’ve got fat tubs of douche like Rush Limbaugh clogging up the airwaves with “relevant” questions like is this country ready to have to watch Hillary Clinton age if she became president. Newsflash, Tubby: You’re not looking any younger (or thinner) yourself.

We all get old. It’s a fact of life. I’m in my early 30s, but I can see time leaving little trails across my face. Wrinkles around my eyes, parenthetical lines on each side of my mouth, a bagginess to my eyelids. Who gives a shit? The lines come from living, and I’d far rather have lines than not live. And guess what? You can tighten your face to the point of splitting in two and it’s not going to fool the Reaper.

For two seasons, Mary McDonnell made me so very happy when I would see her very real and very beautiful lines. I can’t say that I blame her or fault her for her decision to join the plastic posse. I can’t imagine the pressure she and her female acting peers must feel to constantly look 25. But just once, I’d like for an actress to just flip the double bird and embrace her age and all that it brings with it

Distant or Daydreaming?

Make sure you stay hydrated as the dog days of summer approach!
Make sure you stay hydrated as the dog days of summer approach!

I found out a while ago from a coworker that there were people on-staff who were afraid of me. When she named them, I didn’t even know who they were

Flood Gates

Did you know that Gates McFadden once studied mime? Or that Brent Spiner is her son’s godfather?

crusher-mime datagodfather

Did you know that Gates isn’t really her name? Well, it kind of is. Gates is her middle name. It was her mother’s maiden name. Her full name is Cheryl Gates McFadden. She was born in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, on March 2, 1949. I always used to wonder if she and Majel Barrett ever had any chats about growing up in the Buckeye State (Ms. Barrett was born in Columbus, which I think is about 2 hours away from Cuyahoga Falls). For a while, though, she used to tell people that her birthday was August 28 because she was a little worried about telling people her real birthday. I find that strange but in an endearing way since it was only the month and day she changed