My country is made of win!

Yes we are!

It's Tuesday!

Is it Tuesday yet?

I'm watching MSNBC at work as I type this. Election news and political commentary have become my heroin. I need to kick it now. So Tuesday morning, when I get home from work, before I go to bed, I'm going to vote and then sleep. No news, no computer, no tv until 8 pm. That's the plan anyway. Wish me luck.

I'm really looking forward to playing Apocalypse World on Wednesday knowing that Barack Obama is the President Elect. I'm really enjoying this game. I like my character, Mary (a Brainer). She's fun to play. Elizabeth's character Damson (a Battlebabe) and Mary have one of the most fun hateful rpg relationships ever.

How sad is it that I'm having trouble writing this post, because I'm distracted by an Obama speech on C-SPAN. I'll try again in a few days.

Apocalypse World=fun. Playing Mary=fun. Politics in the last 48 hours of an election=not fun. Barack Obama=President=happy! November 5th=Apocalypse World and no more election! (God willing...)

Paintalicious Makes Me Happy

I've been spending too much time reading about the election. It's horribly distracting, and I'm really fed up with the micro-reporting of unimportant bytes. I'm considering not watching the debates tonight, just so I can get my life back. I know whom I'm gonna vote for, I'm even a little confident that my guy will win. Perhaps I need to jump off the political train wreck.

Steve sent me a link to a tentacle sex picture today. I couldn't access the link, so I went to the main website, and what a site it is. I also liked the octopus affection prints of Chiara Bautista. So go now to paintalicious.org and forget about that dirty old man and the witch doctor-blessed lipstick-wearing-barracuda-shaped talking balloon for just a moment. It will all be over soon, and they will go away.

We're playing a really fun game right now. I want to say more, but I just woke up (worked last night) and I'm not feeling particularly eloquent, so I'll refer you to the art of Chris Anthony, which reminds me of my character.

Thanks, Steve!

Ode to Coffee

There's a thread at Mothering.com about coffee. You wouldn't know it now, but I used to love coffee. Then something happened.

I started drinking coffee in one form or another when I was 6 years old (and at 5' 10", it didn't stunt my growth, which is one the things it allegedly does). At various times in my life I've enjoyed up to 6 cups a day. Towards the end of the day I'd switch to decaf. I'm not terribly sensitive to caffeine, but I respect my limits. To say I loved my java was an understatement. My middle name is Jo, by the way.

I used to work in a cafe before cafes were ubiquitous. I learned how to make perfect cappucinos, Turkish coffee, I learned how to roast even. In college, every major paper I wrote for my Biology classes had something to do with coffee. If you pricked my finger, I'd bleed coffee.

One of my best memories of being an exchange student in Japan when I was 15 is drinking coffee with the local government representatives. None of the other gaijin would touch it. I had about 3 small cups of coffee. I felt cool!

When I was pregnant with Ingrid, something changed overnight. My body rebelled. I had my small pregnant lady size cup of joe, and ten minutes later I'd have horrible stomach cramps. I switched to decaf. Same thing happened. I started using soy milk instead of cream. No change. I started drinking it black with a little sugar. No change. I tried just black. No change. I felt like I was dumped by a lover because I got pregnant. It broke my heart to give up coffee, although my gut thanked me.

Then the smell of fresh coffee started to make me sick, as did the smell of chocolate and strawberries. After Ingrid was born, I could eat chocolate again, until Ingrid developed a milk allergy, and strawberries were back on the olfactory menu. But not coffee. Ingrid is 3 1/2 and I still get a little sick when Chris makes a pot. And he usually buys the good fair trade organic stuff, no flavoring. I still go to cafes, but I sit away from the counter. I still like the smell of fresh ground, just not brewed.

I miss coffee.

Jesus & Moses: Community Organizers

Pharoah and Pontius Pilate:
Executive Experience.

Just sayin'.


This is your nation on white privilege.

Next Week I Return to the Stabbing

Anyone wonder where his or her pretty Fisherman's Wife book is? I have them. I'm working on them. After GenCon, mundane life jumped on me, school started, I went back to work, had a birthday (I'm 38!), went back to being a Wife myself, and those fleeting hours devoted to bookbinding fled. Next week looks calmer. My work schedule is much kinder, Bea's settled in school, so I'll finish them up and mail them.

Here's something fun to tide you over. Click on the image to see it bigger, then make your own word cloud:

Speaking of Bea, my cool 9 year old has taken up the drums in band. She's a rocker chick in the making!