Blankshield

Ok, that isn't entirely true, I suppose. I don't hate snow, I just hate all the things that snow heralds. Cold weather, slippery streets, limited daylight, cold weather, bills going up, cold weather...

So I suppose, when it comes to winter, you could say I'm a 'shoot the messenger' kind of guy.

I hate snow.

Grr. It's snowing. I hate snow.

Hmm. Thinking today about the Evening of Schmultz and Tragic Romance, and what sort of foods need to be there. Of course any food, presented properly, can be considered romantic - heck, Raven makes a pretty good case for broiled chicken and rice, which normally is about as unromantic as it gets.

There are some constants to "romantic" food. Chocolate covered strawberries, fondue, wine, and so forth. Beyond that, it seems to vary wildly from person to person and place to place with only two traits in common:

1) It's food for 2. You do not find recipe books with romantic candlelit dinners for 18.
2) It's not simple. Whether it's a multi-course meal, a dish that takes 16 hours to prepare, exotic ingredients from far-off Wonga Wonga Land, or simply a restaurant bill that causes your eyes to cross, the romantic dinner must say "Look what I have done for Love".

So, a survey, of sorts: What is your romantic food? What sort of food says "Look what I do for Love" to you? email me and let me know.

(I could also use tips on how to do it easily for 18 people.)

James

Oh! And Fox has wedding pictures! Go, ye lemmings, and rejoice in the abominable cuteness that is Fox and Bear in Love.

Pity they couldn't do it closer to home, but hey, that's what you get for living in the land of Ralph "Shoot, Shovel and Shut Up" Klein. He expressed that WRT mad cows, but I'm pretty sure he wishes that could be his policy on homosexuals, too.

James

Woo! Anna Lives! She sent me e-mail today, which was cool, so I sent some back. And she's updated her blog, too! I should remember to explain to her that the reason things seem odd is because she's upside down. See, China is on the other side of the world, and the world is round, so the people over there are all upside down. I bet that's why Anna's noticing weird things in her surroundings, it's because she's used to being right-side-up.


More tireder. Almost entirely not sick. Work make brain go boom.

James

More tired. Less sick. Work is stupider-busier. Life is still good anyway.

Went out to BP's last night for a "who are all these crazy people" meeting for NaNoWriMo. Met several of the Edmonton crazies. They're neat folk, although it certainly seems that the NaNo demographic is "people in their early/mid 20's at University", which is *so* not me. [shrug] I had fun, I had food, I arrived a half-hour early and dropped 30 bucks at Wee Book Inn. It was all good.

James

Tired. Sick. Work is stupid-busy. But life is good anyway.

Someone mentioned JC Superstar recently, and the music from that has been running through my brain ever since. I have only to say Darn You! Darn you to Heck! Ah well. JC Superstar is on the list of musicals that I can sing straight through, from overture to finale. I fell in love with it many years ago, and while we aren't currently seeing each other, we're still fantastic friends, and occaisionally spend quality time together.

So yeah. Heaven on my Mind and all that. I always thought I'd make a good Judas.

James

So I said to myself "Self, I should update my blog."

To which myself answered "Yup, I should. It's been a week. I know what it's like to go a week without an update for a blog-reading addict. So, what should I say?"

[pause]

"I'm fucked if I know, Terry"

(w/ apologies to the fine folks who wrote The Commitments)

James, aspiring house husband

I just saw a lovely, lovely tagline.

"Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they are approaching rapidly"

This is tempting:

http://www.nanowrimo.org/index.php

One Day I'll FLy Away

I make it alone
When love is gone
Still you made your mark
Here in my heart

One day I'll fly away
Leave your love to yesterday
What more can your love do for me
When will love be through with me

I follow the night
Can't stand the light
When will I begin
My life again

One Day I'll fly away
Leave your love to yesterday
What more can your love do for me
When will love be through with me
Why live life from dream to dream
And dread the day that dreaming ends

One day I'll fly away leave your love to yesterday
What more can your love do for me
When will love be through with me
Why live life from dream to dream
And dread the day that dreaming ends

One day i'll fly away

Sigh. I need my fix.

(Lyrics and music by Randy Crawford, though that's amazingly hard to find on the net; buried under the sheet weight of hundreds of thousands of blogs and fan pages and lyric sites that have it either credited to Nicole Kidman, or not credited at all. Not to mention finding somewhere that has the whole song...)

James

I'm feeling odd today; sort of emphatically whimsical if that makes sense. Here's a page from the "I'm not a [blank], but I've played one in a game" file. I wrote it a few years ago as a mix between a character I was making for a tabletop Changling game and something that Mary Schmich (the original author of the infamous 'Sunscreen Song') said: Everyone should get the chance to write a graduation speech once in their lives. Picture it being spoken by a shy and unassuming type; Todd Anderson from Dead Poet's Society would be ideal; he was much of the inspiration behind the character.

--------
Ladies and Gentleman, I present to you this year’s Valedictorian, Mr. Terrance Anderson!



Hi. Let me introduce myself. Terrance David Anderson.

Call me Dave.

I don't know any of you out there, nor do any of you know me. Not really. Most of us haven't seen each other for more than an hour a day. At 5 days a week and 8 months a year, even for 4 years, that's less than a month. Seriously. Can you honestly say you know anyone when you've only spent a month with them?

But, having proven I don't know you, and in the tradition of the greatest shysters, I will proceed to tell you about yourself. Facts and knowledge both personal and obscure! I am the all-knowing oracle, if you will.

Hard work and perseverance are parts of your character. If not always, then the fact that you sit here today means they are now. You are talented. There is not a single person in this hall who was not once a child, and who does not, somewhere, still allow that child free reign. All of you grew up wanting to be firemen, or the culturally acceptable equivalents. There is a person in the back row thinking I don't have a point. There is a woman, near to the front, wearing comfortable shoes. Everyone who wore high heels wishes they had dared the same. All of us wanted to grow up, and now, wearing the cap and gown of our newfound maturity, we feel slightly sad, because it isn't as much fun as it seemed. There is not a person in this room who has not been envious of a child running barefoot through a sprinkler. We've all been so busy looking for the answers we want, that we put aside the answers we had, and now we've forgotten where they are. You all have within you, the spark of greatness that makes a brilliant artist. All you have to do is dream.

The person in the back row is snorting derisively. Most of you are thinking dreams don't put food on the table. I defy you! How many here believe that dreams are more important than food? Come on, don't be shy. Ok, that's more than I expected, but most of you are lying. To yourselves if no one else. When it comes to the crunch, you too will work at McDonalds instead of writing music. And eventually you will lose that spark of greatness in a flood of the everyday.
Ask any child if dreams are more important than food. They'll tell you. Because they know. Food is a thing of existence. Dreams are what make us live. And so, I have chosen to learn my most important lessons from children.

I believe in faeries. There is a monster in the closet, and if you follow the little path behind my apartment, you will find a castle. It is a glorious thing of spun crystal and shimmering lights.
Life is an Epic. Good and Evil are always capitalized. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, more important in life than learning how to sneak out of your room. Things are more fun when you aren't supposed to do them. The woods are scary at night. I absolutely refuse to allow mere danger to prevent me from the course I choose.

On my wall is the only possession I care about. It's a cheap, tattered, poster of a c. 1600 map. It is the last map I have been able to find with the most wonderful phrase that the human tongue ever produced printed on it. "Terra Incognita", Land Unknown. Terra incognita is the only thing worth striving for. And so, I leave you with a scrawled comment on the Terra Incognita of your soul:
Here There Be Dragons!