fry day

The internet should know to keep these things away from me when I'm so very tired:

Yule (Buy It)

Christmas is coming up pretty rapidly, and it has me thinking about stuff. Not in the 'stuff & things' general sense, more in the Carlin-'a place for your stuff'-sense. I've been recently gifted some fairly snazzy electronics, but in all honesty, compared with the rest of the blessings this year they don't have the shine they may have once had.

Anyhow, here's a small photo collection of items that have caught my eye:

This is a photo of a key cutter from O's office. It's the only thing in this short list that wasn't currently available to buy, but I really wanted to point out a few things, like the odd gun terminology in use in the description. Personally I can't be bothered copying my keys manually, and I accidentally shot the dog with my full-auto key chucker. The thing that really bothered me about this was the "Made in USA" sticker, indicating it was likely built during the 70s' great "the" shortage.

Now, listen, I can understand someone wanting to own a Transformers belt buckle despite the show being a walking toy commercial, (a state the neighbouring bat and spider-men are sliding into,) but this booth at the mall really made my eye twitch. A Ford logo? A bloody Honda logo? Listen chummer, robots are forever but that crap pile you bought from your Mom after highschool (just so you could tack on a loud & shiny muffler,) is no replacement for engaging in the realities of your life, and no garish logo buckle is going to save you. (I realize that it looks like there are a lot of jewel encrusted skull & crossbones in the top row, but you have to keep in mind that I was shopping in the pirate district.)

This is actually out in front of a relatively classy looking spa in Capital City. I admit, I have no idea what "fillers" are, but the idea of being able to get botox, /any/ botox, for $8.88 sent shivers through my supple, well formed, entirely immobile lips. Actually, while I stand by the oddly cliched position that no one will be shooting poison into my face any time soon, for $50 I'll be happy to wash people in hot chocolate with a stiff brush.

So one night Opopanax and I run to the grocery store while May wrangles the children to their intended destination. If you've never been to a food basics it's just your standard chain grocery store with enough on the margins to try and keep them competitive with the great Wal. We actually saw another one of these charmers by the door, without its cardboard backing, but that backing turns this item from 'well, you know, not for my kids, but whatever' to 'do you have your phone I need to post this'. The picture may be hard to make out, but the backing is like a brief history of modern combat. If I recall correnctly there's an apache helicopter, a tank or armoured personal carrier of some sort, Nick Út's Napalm Victim photo and some shots from Abu Ghraib. Alright, the tank and the apache were definitely there, as well as some other scenes of big shiny combat, and I couldn't help but think '3? Do I really need to wait that long? This probably isn't lead based paint right, so we could just leave it in the baby's crib...' Maybe I could also pick up a tot-gas mask and combat helmet like the fellow in the top right, so it'll just be a low moist rasp as my 5 year old crawls along my sleeping leg to bury a ghurka knife in my ribs while playing "GWOT".

Family Picture

Winter 2007

more moreness

And while I'm thinking of posting articles, Opopanax found this Maclean's article a while ago and I may as well post it. It's an interesting read, implying that our situation may have a decent legal standing in Canada if anyone had the lawyers to challenge it:

Chloe is a twentysomething legal assistant from Toronto, who hopes to go to law school one day. She's interested in kayaking, camping, painting and photography, "the 'old fashioned' way, with film." As for her thoughts on marriage, she's even more old fashioned: think, Old Testament. "I am interested in polygamy, which brings me here!" she wrote to Sisterwives, an online forum for women in polygamous marriages, for those considering it, and for "poly-friendly individuals, male and female."

- More

The Family

Here's an interesting article from Babble, about child rearing in a triad relationship, that I found on Polyamory In The News.

"Why do some kids have three parents?"

A group of our friends were spending a weekend at a cabin in the mountains, and our hosts' not-quite-three-year-old was starting to do the math. Over the squalls of nap-resisting toddlers, her mom responded without missing a beat: "Because they're lucky."

- More

Big Questions On Big Days

Take #4 on this post:

We awoke under a blanket of snow, the first blizzard of the year making the world look like it had been redecorated by Tony Montana.

May and I have been discussing things for a while, but somehow this morning seemed different, the world had changed slightly. It would be easy to quote that ornery gunslinger with the missing fingers and say the world had moved on, but I've never really bought into the finality that winter is supposed to represent. Maybe it's just where I grew up, but going into the woods after a snow fall, the trees always seemed more alive while straining against their icy holdings - you see tracks everywhere, the hopping paths of birds, the big footed snuffling of rabbits, deer, foxes.. suddenly the evidence of passage stands clear.

Its easy for my brain to hide in the day to day static, and not consider the larger matters, but today is a day for beginnings, a day to mark our path as we've come, and to look to where we're going. And to ask some very large* questions.

Opopanax, how we adore you.

Wish us luck!

* and not necessarily legal in this country

Addendum: She said yes!

I'm such a dick.

This is largely a direct apology to the wonderfully demented hostess at antibarbie. I've been reading her site for a bit, and really enjoying it, but I have to admit I missed something pretty vital.

I even read the entire post, but somehow missed my new moniker attached to it. Of course, my brain finally uncoiling itself from a series of work related unpleasantries, I go back and there it is: my horrible misdeed staring me in the face.

Now for my penance:

8 Things I’m Passionate About:

1. My wonderful loves
2. Collecting as much information about everything as I can
3. Science, especially space and technologies useful in bringing a little equality to the world.
4. Tolerance, motherfucker.
5. Bringing a little rationality to the religion debate
6. Equality and minding of own business for all
7. Film
8. Chiba

8 Things I Want to Do Before I Die:

1. Get published
2. Make it into space
3. Learn to play bass
4. Save a culture from destruction
5. Mold my children into something they can be proud of
6. Take a nap
7. Have the freedom to travel at our whim
8. Become immortal

8 Things I Often Say:

1. That'll happen.
2. Uh, but I think we're going to be late?
3. Chupacabra! (My nickname for the wee boy.)
4. Poop. (You need a replacement around little ears.)
5. Dig.
6. Hella (as in "we're going to be hella late?")
7. Cum guzzling dog fucker!
8. Sure thing, love(ly)

8 Books I’ve Read Recently (or Still Reading):

1. The Official Driver's Handbook
2. Lord Jim (I heart Joseph Conrad)
3. Cell
4. Black House
5. The Power and The Glory (Bought it used and some fiend had ripped out the last page)
6. The Dosadi Experiment
7. The White Plague
8. Eye Of The World (Well, Opopanax is actually reading it to us.)

8 Songs I Could Listen to Over and Over:

1. Icky Thump by The White Stripes
2. Rawhide by The Dead Kennedys
3. Tear The Roof Off The Sucker by Parliament Funk
4. Nautical Disaster by The Tragically Hip
5. A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall by Bob Dylan
6. All Rights Reversed by The Chemical Brothers
7. Thou Shalt Always Kill by dan le sac vs scroobius pip
8. Start A War by The National (I insist you follow that link... in a new tab)

8 Things that Attract Me to my Best Friends:

I agreed with antibarbies list here, so I just changed the first item.

1. Truth
2. Wit
3. Humor
4. Candor
5. Loyalty
6. Individuality
7. Taste
8. Compassion

I tag assembling words to armory, she waits... and Bamboo Blitz.

And now, hopefully, let the healing begin.

Late Again, I Heart Saturdays

Pretty much every day we are late to get Opopanax to work. We try, we really do, and we are always hopeful for the next day. We set the alarm for at least 90 minutes before punch in time. We get things in order a bit, shower, brush teeth. But then... and it comes on without warning. It's messy, naked, sweaty love. There is a point where things relax and we lay and discuss the few things left to get in order. We get up, start looking for pants... but then it happens AGAIN, who starts it? I dunno? One can't tell these sorts of things. We think, surely there's time, isn't there always time? And in the throws of passion, one of us comes to the surface to realize we have only 20 minutes... but, of course isn't that enough time?

Later, we jump to our feet grabbing only necessary items and running to get shoes on. We rush out the door blowing kisses and leaping to the car. We smoke and listen to music loudly whilst still obeying the speed limit in order to keep my sweetness from worrying. She makes calls testing the waters at work while I focus on arriving alive. She leaves me sweet lip glossed kisses and sails away inside. And then she's gone.

Saturday is heaven.

On Sleeping In The Middle

This is absolutely relevant to the post
and no I'm not just extremely tired and
willing to giggle at anything.

I'm not sure how it came about, but somehow I ended up being the one sleeping in the middle. This isn't always true, but when it's a matter of choice and not just nodding off halfway through Clash Of The Titans, I'm the chosen fender of elbows.

I've come to some observational conclusions based on my time in the trench, and I've come to impart them into the silence of the early morning intertron:

• The only option is to spoon.
• A few inches can mean the difference between a comfortable sleep and bluish limbs.
• The XKCD bed is a good idea, but even just a runnel and not a full out hole would be handy. I find my shoulders grow sore from always being under some one's pillow.
• Your spine has more elasticity than you'd expect
• A shelf over the bed would be crazy handy. And a little snake light for reading. And some monkey bars to help me in and out of bed without accidental elbowing or deblanketing of nearby sleepers. Scratch that, actual monkeys to help me in and out of bed. (Quietly now, Mr. Chuckles.)
  
• Its a lot warmer at the center, but you're restricted in how low you can push the blanket to cool. This would probably be really easy to break down into a equation, but you'd have to factor in blanket hogging. (I believe blanket hogging has something to do with chaos theory, you know that old chestnut: 'If May hogs a blanket on a cold November night, somewhere in Japan Jeff Goldblum is eaten by a velociraptor.')
  
• We need a bigger bed.

Monkey Sleep Force One, Assemble!

Shapoopie

I'm having one of those moments where I feel especially lucky to be loved by two such strong, gorgeous and intelligent people, and I just wanted to record it in a shout to the world.

DANCE!