Scarlett Letters

We had lunch on Friday at a pub called O’Neill’s just outside of Trinity College. The place had a sign out front that said, “Good times are coming, no matter how far away.” I took that as a good sign. I had the beef and Guinness stew. The respite was needed; we’d been on our feet a while, and it was nice to sit and eat and mull over the exhibit.

Now, it should be noted that a number of people had suggested that, while we were in Dublin, we should do the Guinness tour. I wasn’t particularly excited by this idea because I’ve never been a Guinness drinker. When E heard this, she insisted I take a sip of her Guinness. Much to my surprise, I found it smooth and soft, not bitter and very tasty. Really, it was a serious surprise indeed. I liked it! We didn't take the tour, but more Guinness drinking would ensue.

Cathedrals
Our next stop was Christ Church Cathedral. A location of worship nearly 1,000 years old, the Gothic structure that sits there now is somewhere around 700 years old. The grounds are beautiful, with sculptures and ruins that highlight both the faith and the history of the site. I was struck by the blocky flying buttresses and the ruins of the original chapter house, open for viewing on the grounds outside the church. I was also struck by a sculpture of a hooded man curled on a bench. His feet showed wounds characteristic of the traditional portrayal of the crucifixion. I’m virtually certain the sculpture is intended to make the visitor think twice about their treatment of the homeless. We strolled the grounds and went inside, but we were greeted with an immediate demand for an entry fee. The sounds of a concert floated out from the main sanctuary, and for some reason the whole thing just repelled us. We took pictures of the stained glass that was visible from where we stood, but we decided to head out to another destination; somehow the experience just struck us the wrong way.





We walked to Saint Patrick’s Cathedral. The building feels blockier and more imposing than Christ Church. There, we paid the entry fee and took a tour of the building, learning some of its history. We also got to see memorials to Jonathan Swift,  author of Gulliver's Travels, who was dean of the cathedral from 1713 to 1745. The tour guide told us that Swift was notorious for his epic sermons lasting as much as three hours and often descending into harangues of the congregation. Still, he apparently benefited the church and did serious benevolent work on behalf of the poor. He wrote his own epitaph, having his own way until the very end. The cathedral is beautiful, with its choir space hung with banners and mounted with the helmets of associated knights. Statues line either side of the sanctuary, and the floor is inlaid with beautiful tile featuring loose Celtic knotwork and vines and flowers. The columns are made from Connemara rose marble--rare and beautiful.

City impressions
After our visit to the cathedrals, we decided to head back to the hotel for a bit. We were both tired and wanted a break. One thing that struck me as we walked--all the time we were in the city, really--is how close to the surface the Viking heritage of Ireland still lives. We saw a ribbon mural featuring a Viking ship and depictions of the perils of the sea. The city offers an attraction called Dublinia that purports to recreate Dublin of the Viking era. We didn’t go in; the place was swarming with students, and the crowd just repelled us. But it’s there beneath the surface; we were never not aware of it.

Observations
The toilet in our room is interesting. You have to pump the handle up and down a couple of times to flush it. Weirdly, I enjoyed the exercise.

Salt and pepper shakers in Ireland are reversed from how I grew up with them: Salt is in the shaker with only one hole; pepper is in the shaker with many. Odd, at least to me.

Dinner
We had asked around about what we ought to do in the evening. Everyone we asked told us to go to Temple Bar, which is a lively district not at all far from where we were staying. As it turned out, the restaurant that akirlu recommended to E is located near there, a place called The Quays, so we went there for dinner. We were seated by a window with a view out to the street. I had the fish and chips, and I ordered a Guinness for myself. It was as good as I remembered from lunchtime—I was a convert! Dinner overall, in fact, was good, so thanks to akirlu for the heads-up!

Halfway through dinner, there was a clamor on the street. It seems someone had won a football (read "soccer") game and there was much rejoicing. There were also a couple of spectacles going on: how long can you stay pulled up on a pull-up bar, that kind of thing. When we were done with dinner, we navigated this wild crowd. It was clear, though, that "party" is this neighborhood’s nickname and nature, and we could hear music from every pub we passed. We stopped outside of one to listen to some traditional music (too crowded and loud to go inside), and then headed back to the hotel to get some sleep before our first full day on the road.

Me and food
I've been doing a lot of self medicating with food lately. I realized yesterday that most of what I ate had been bread of some kind. I didn't leave the house. I napped for three hours after work and then didn't fall properly asleep until past 1 AM. My body felt like stale pita. I was sluggish and unhappy. I had stopped tracking my food via MyFitnessPal and had just gotten really complacent. Yesterday was a low; last night was ridiculous. This morning, I got up, had a measured breakfast--cereal, soy milk, cantaloupe--and logged the meal. I have to work at home again today: the renovation is rapidly coming to the close of the first stage and I need to be here. I have promised myself that at lunchtime, I'm going to get out and take a walk in the sunshine.

And in only a related food note, I had exactly one strawberry on my balcony strawberry plant yesterday. One. I got up this morning, having planned to have it at breakfast, only to have discovered that some thief of a squirrel stole it. :: sigh :: How do you know when it's time to pick a strawberry? Maybe I just left it on there too long.

Renovation
The renovation work continues apace. Yesterday, the project manager reattached the linen closet door, newly refinished, and attached the medicine cabinet doors. He also mounted the new shower head and control. What remains at this point is the grouting of the bullnose along the floor, the tiling and grouting of the shower shampoo cubby and the replacement of the toilet. A last payment is due when the work is complete. And then I still have to get the glass people in to finish up installing the shower surround and the mirrors on the medicine cabinet doors. And I have to paint. I'm concerned about the glass people. They have not been impressive about keeping in touch. I dropped them email last night to get the estimate that they had promised to send me and didn't. Today I call them.

I am an unrepentant carnivore. (Well, sometimes I repent, but not enough to stop.) I am in Portland, Oregon this weekend, visiting with all my best beloveds here in town. Last night a subset of that group went to dinner at Brazil Grill, a Brazilian steakhouse that gives new meaning to "all you can eat" because it's very, very good indeed, and you want to eat more not because you can but because it's all so delicious you can't help yourself.

We were seated at our table promptly upon arrival. A server gave us the rundown: we can go get salad at the salad bar. And then he pointed out a red coaster on the table. He told us that when we were ready for meat, we should turn it over; the other side is green. As daviddlevine put it, that turns on the meat spigot. Servers come by with swords pierced through queues of meat of many different kinds and preparations. They will slice off as much or as little as you'd like. When we returned from the salad bar, we found garlic rolls and fried polenta sticks on the table. And then the meat started coming: tri-tip beef, mustard beef, bacon-wrapped filet, linguica, shrimp, ham, chicken hearts, chicken legs, chili-lime pork. And it went on from there. Truly, it was remarkable and all very well prepared. And the meat stops coming only when you turn the coaster to red again.

Toward the latter part of the meal, they asked us if we would help them reorganize tables a bit because they had a large group come in. For our trouble, they treated us to dessert. I had the Brazilian chocolate cake, which may be the Platonic ideal of chocolate cake.

The only complaint I might have is that I thought the wine list was somewhat limited. (You can see it on the website.) Nevertheless, we had a delicious red Coppola Cabernet Sauvignon that complimented the meal well.

If you're in Portland and you have the chance, I recommend Brazil Grill without reservation (except that having a reservation will be a good idea). Don't eat too much earlier in the day; you'll want to try everything on offer. It's completely worth it.

In the car on the way home from work (I don't usually drive, but I left too late to catch the bus and still get to work on time), I found myself with a craving to make meatloaf. Not necessarily to eat it, mind you, just to make it (though I did eat it when it was done). I haven't had meatloaf in decades, but I remember my mother making it when I was a kid. I know that my brother makes her recipe every now and then. He's got her recipe card; I don't have a copy of it and have no recipe of my own. So on my way home, I stopped at the grocery store, picked up the stuff I thought I might need (ground beef, an onion; I had other ingredients at home already) then came home and went to work on theory and memory, not going to the internets for help. I wanted to see what would happen if I just winged it. This is what I did:

1.25 lbs ground beef (90% lean)
1/2 onion chopped fine
1/2 cup Italian bread crumbs
1 egg
garlic salt to taste (I went light with it)
1/2 cup DiParma Classico Four Cheese Pasta Sauce

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Except for the pasta sauce, mix all ingredients in a mixing bowl, then stuff into a meatloaf pan. Bake for 40 minutes. In the meanwhile, heat up the pasta sauce. When the timer goes off, pour the pasta sauce over the meatloaf, then bake another 20 minutes, then serve.

I served it with a brown rice medley and steamed carrots.

I ended up adding a little more salt for taste. Salt wasn't what I wanted, but it was a quick solution because I needed to add something more for flavor, I think; I wanted more flavor than I got. More onion may help, or maybe adding paprika. (Paprika! Yes!) I had forgotten than I have some sun-dried tomatoes in the house and I should, perhaps, add some of those next time I try this (or the next time I heat up what I've still got in the refrigerator).

I think, the next time I make the rice, I'll add a little more salt there, too, and maybe some sauteed onion.

After I completed the experiment, I decided to hunt down recipes on the internet and found that in its simplicity, the recipe I put together was pretty accurate to what I found online. The big difference was that most recipes called for ketchup rather than pasta sauce. Ketchup, which absolutely has its place in the kitchen, would have seemed too aggressive to me, though. I'm pleased with what I did.

I made enough for at least three servings, more properly four. I'm not sure that meatloaf is something I'd make for company; it feels like family food, being hearty and unshowy. But now I know I can do it in a pinch. I don't know why I felt the urge.

My dear and slightly mad friend ebourne recently discovered that King Midas, he of song and story, was buried with the remains of his funereal feast. Some enterprising researchers recreated the recipes of the delicacies served at the meal and have posted said recipes to the web. Here's where the slightly mad part comes in: she decided that a delightful Friday night might be spent trying to recreate this feast with a dozen or so friends nearly as mad as she is.

I found this idea completely awesome. Apparently, I am mad as well.

The feast is tomorrow night (or, rather, by the time anyone reads this, tonight). I spent this evening creating my contribution to the feast: a garbanzo and olive spread, otherwise known as hummus (the olives are a garnish to be used on the side--they are optional). I have never made hummus before. I've always purchased it at the grocery store. Hummus-lover that I am, I thought I ought to give it a try. Here are some things I learned:

1. Tahini is hard to find in Seattle. I hit three grocery stores before I found it. (I found it at Ballard Market, if you're local and you're wondering. I tried QFC and Trader Joe's first.)

2. I never bothered to investigate what tahini was made of before; I'd never tasted it by itself, always with something else. The tahini called for in the recipe is sesame tahini--it's basically sesame butter, the peanut butter of the seed world. I saw garlic tahini in the store also but didn't puchase any.

3. Making hummus is messy: tahini, olive oil, lemon juice (freshly squeezed, I might add)--this stuff gets everywhere, no matter how careful you are, or how out of the way the cats stay. (I think they disappeared when the blender began to buzz.)

4. A blender is not an optimal food processor but it will do in a pinch. As jackwilliambell told me, Uncle Alton Brown says that no tool in your kitchen should be a one-use tool, and so my blender, usually used for making fruit smoothies, tonight doubled as a food processor. It served well enough but, again, messy. And the olive oil seep through even the best rubber gasket.

5. This recipe calls for preserving the liquid from the garbanzo beans to use as the spread blends (actually, purees), but I didn't need it. I liked the thickness of my resulting spread without it, and there was so much lemon juice (I beat those things--wait for it!--to a pulp!) that it wasn't necessary.

6. With a blender as a food processor, it would take hours to get a truly smooth spread. I don't have hours to blend. Mine is a little lumpy. I figure that in ancient days, they didn't have food processors; chances are that their hummus wasn't smooth either. It's authentic. Yeah. Authentic. :-)

7. This last isn't a learning; I knew it already. It's a reminder: Windex is an awesome cleaning agent when you're done with your work. It busts oil and grease. It leaves surfaces squeaky clean. I'm a fan.

The finished bowl of spread sits covered securely in my fridge. I'll take it with me to work tomorrow in an insulated container, keep it in the office fridge, and then take it off to our feast. I'm so looking forward to our culinary adventure--our Midas feast--tomorrow evening. I shall make a report anon. And if I have brains enough to remember to take my camera, there will be pictures.

Had a perfectly lovely Thanksgiving with J&KG at their place with the usual suspects and with the usual fantastic feast--turkey by our hosts, sides and desserts by the guests. I contributed my apple-crusted sweet-potato casserole, but the traditional turkey was also accompanied by mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, two kinds of dressing, mushrooms, green beans, delicious dinner rolls, salad, and several kinds of wine. Dessert was cheesecake, pumpkin pie and apple pie (I had only the apple; I was thoroughly well fed); vanilla bean ice cream was available as a pi accompaniment. And more wine because . . . wine. Conversation was excellent as always, the most contentious subject perhaps having been opinions about the quality of Star Trek: Into Darkness. I love my friends and so I will not judge them by their taste in this matter. :-)

Today's pledge of rededication is a promise to myself to take better care of myself. I have let my vigilance about food and exercise slip (evidence of which is already becoming clear to me). Other kinds of self care must become a priority as well: dental care, vision care. If I am to be a good friend, sibling, companion to my cats, I must attend to myself so that I can be present and available for everyone else.

Matt's death kinda threw all of our thinking about my visit to my brother's place into disarray, hence the lack of blogging for the rest of the trip. Here's a summary of the week in bullet points, because at 6 AM, that seems to be all I'm capable of.

Shopping: Once a funeral became part of our plans, I had to find something to wear. My sister-in-law took me shopping, and I found a top, slacks and shoes for the event. I wasn't planning to come home from the trip with new, work-appropriate clothes, but there you are.

Fire: That evening, my brother built a fire in the firepit in the backyard. We sat around the fire, toasted marshamllows, made 'smores, and tried to relax--which I think we did. My niece brought her hermit crabs down from her bedroom in a large cardboard box and we had crab races. I ate one too many 'smores. We did a little stargazing. It was a pleasant, quiet evening, and just what was needed.

Memorial: It's a two hour trip from my brother's place on the Island to the uptown Manhattan location of the funeral home where the memorial service was held. We traveled into town with a friend of the family and her daughter. They took my niece for the day while we headed to the service. I'd already been in touch with my aunt, whom I haven't spoken to in longer than I'd prefer to admit, so going into the side room where she, my cousin, and their family members waited before the ceremony was a little stressful, but ultimately to the good. It was a good reunion under terrible circumstances. We promised we'd see each other after the service. The chapel where the service was held was enormous, and filled to the rafters. I saw several publishing associates I hadn't seen since I left New York. The tributes to my cousin were eloquent and evocative--but that's what happens when your social circle is full of actors and publishing types. Everyone speaks well and writes beautifully. I don't think we could have given Matt a better send-off if we'd tried.

Post-memorial: After the service, we went to my cousin's widow's home. It's an apartment in a circa-1920s building with Tiffany stained glass illuminated in the building foyer. The apartment itself was large and beautifully appointed, with gorgeous architectural detail--crown moldings and arched entries and large windows--where we spent most of our time catching up with family we haven't seen in a very long time. We spent a couple of hours there, confirmed contact information and then, when the crowd got to be a little too much for me, finally departed. We had an excellent lunch at a restaurant recommended by Yelp! called Henry's, and then headed back to Penn Station for the long ride home. As planned we eventually rendezvoused with the family friend and my niece; I don't remember all the details. I was terrifically tired. We finally got to bed close to midnight.

Out east: Part of my hopes for the trip included going to the beach, as one does on Long Island. Island beaches are great--fine sand, crashing waves, good sun--unlike much of what's available in the Puget Sound region. My brother indulged me on Saturday, and we drove south and east to the Hamptons to Cupsogue Beach, one of the few public beaches on the east end of the Island. To get there, you drive through the colony of mansions and beach homes that have proliferated. Some of these houses--and they are mansions--are beautiful; some of architectural monstrosities, probably partly designed by owners. It was fun and interesting to peek past the tall shrubs lining the roads to get glimpses of these spectacular homes and their fantasy cars--Maseratis were common--and then to see the places even closer to the water, large enough to house 20 people, much less a family of four.

Beach: Cupsogue is a family-friendly beach, uncrowded even at the height of the beach day. It offers a snack-and-drink hut with picnic benches and table service if you want it, and live bands on summer weekends (but not so loud as to be intrusive on the beach itself). It's not a "scene;" it's a hang-out-and-have-fun beach, which is exactly what we did. I built a lumpy-but-nevertheless-awesome sand castle with my niece. We walked along the strand; I dipped myself thigh-deep in the water. We sunned ourselves. It was a lovely day. We ended it by driving out to Southampton for dinner and to stroll the astonishing shopping strip, filled with places I could never afford, the streets lined with BMWs, Lexuses, Cadillacs, Audis, and the occasional Maserati. We had a tasty dinner at The Driver's Seat, strolled a little more, and then headed west. We did stop for a little ice cream on the way, at the New York Stuffed Cone Co., which my niece really wanted me to experience, and then we headed home.

Pre-flight brekkies: We had pre-flight brekkies at a place called Toast in Port Jefferson, where the food was hearty, tasty, and well-served. And then we hit the road for the airport. My niece begged me, in her quiet way, not to leave. When I asked her who would take care of my kitties, she said, "Magic robot Janna." Can't fault a kid for trying.

Regrets: I think my biggest regret of the trip is that I didn't get to see two of my niece's cousins. There's some family stuff going on that interfered with our hopes of getting together. We tried to negotiate some kind of compromise, but finally--with the news of Matt's death--I just gave up trying. I'd traveled across the country to see everyone, and got tired of trying to accommodate the family drama. I respect my brother and sister-in-law's position in the affair, but I dislike that the conflict got in the way of my seeing the cousins, who had nothing to do with the business and wanted to see me when I came out. I hate having disappointed them, and I myself am disappointed as well.

In the end, it was a good trip and I'm enormously glad that I went. I'm not really ready to go back to day-to-day living, but the calendar ticks on. And, it being September, it appears that the rains have returned.

Apparently I celebrate all holidays the same way: Chinese food and a movie.

In what has become an annual July 4th tradition, ironymaiden picked me up and we met a group of friends at Jumbo's for dim sum. The food was delicious and the group was, as ever, congenial, funny, and full of good feeling. I made a date with some of the folks there for an evening at Banya 5 spa later next week. We had an excellent time.

Celebrating my independence from work for the day, when I got home I read the internets, played with the cats, and took a nap.

I then woke up, got on a bus, and headed over to meet varina8 for a burger and a viewing of The Audience at SIFF. Helen Mirren really is a national treasure of the British theater. Her portrayal of Queen Elizabeth is just marvelous and the script is wonderful. If you have an opportunity to see this film of the stage production, I highly recommend it.

I got home about a half hour before the fireworks at Lake Union got started, and stayed indoors to be with the kitties. For those of you who don't know, Lake Union is four blocks from my house, and the Lake Union show is the big, municipal celebration. It always sounds like there's combat going on in the streets outside my building. It was Zeke's first Independence Day, and I had no idea how he'd deal with the noise. Well, he didn't like it very much at all. He huddled under the bed, growling. Sophie cuddled up on the bed with me. We all survived and are fine this morning. I'm glad the fireworks are only once a year.

Now, don't get me wrong: I love fireworks--but my kitties don't, and since they have no understanding of what's going on, I feel like I should be here, that maybe it will make them feel safer. I don't know that it does (see above re: Zeke's behavior) but we do what we can. There will always be other opportunities to see fireworks. In the meanwhile, things at Boom Boom Central have quieted down and we can now get back to the business of watching birds from the balcony, harassing me for food, doing gravity experiments and, in general, being cats and living with cats again.

1) The Bus and Books: With the new commute--a bus and the streetcar into downtown Seattle, and then a bus home--I'm getting a lot of reading done. And my reading pattern is becoming more what it was like back in New York, which is to say that I have a commuting book and a bedtime book--back to reading two at a time. I feel more like myself. My last two books were Redshirts by John Scalzi and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins. My current two books are Murder in the Marais by Cara Black and Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. (Yes, I'm preparing for the release of "Catching Fire" in the theaters this summer. We're all allowed our lighter fare.) In the background, I'm still reading, a couple of pages at a time, Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin. It's so dense and delicious that I need to parse it out, which means it's going to take forever to read. I don't care. John Adams took forever to read (except when I'd devote entire Saturdays to making substantial headway) and I enjoyed every moment of it. Same thing with the Goodwin. I read slower than I used to, probably because I'm using bifocals now, so there's no insanely impressive reading list as I've seen on some of my friends' LJs--but a bit at a time is still progress and pleasure. Good enough for me.

2) The New Job: The new job is going pretty well. I'm getting along well with my coworkers and I'm beginning to receive more challenging assignments and more responsibility. I'm having to learn more quickly and, also, having to be patient when someone assumes I don't know something that I know very well. It's a balancing act. But it's good. I wish I enjoyed the commute more. Even with the reading, I'm not entirely happy with walking to the bus in the pouring-down rain. Must take advantage of telecommuting a little more.

3) Zeke: Getting bigger; almost as big as Sophie, but still lean and rangy in an adolescent-cat sort of way. Plays fetch at his own instigation. Hasn't broken anything lately. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

4) Good company on Pi Day: Had a wonderful sushi dinner last night with markferrari and calendula_witch at Chiso in downtown Fremont. Lovely atmosphere, and with only one exception, everything was superior, from drinks to dessert. (And the exception wasn't dramatic; it was still delicious, just not up to the standards of the rest of the meal.) Highly recommended. Of course, it was Pi Day, and so we walked across the street to a tiny bakery called "Pie" where we hoped to observe the day's required ritual. Alas, a sign in the window said, "Due to the craziness of Pi Day, Pie will be closing early, at 8 PM." And sure enough, the doors were locked. We went away heartsore and yearning for sweetness. Mark consoled himself with ice cream. Shannon and I suffered in silence. ::sigh:: But dinner itself? Delicious. And the company was quite, quite fine.

5) Another carless weekend: And so begins a second carless weekend. I'm actually looking forward to it. Learning to be resourceful about my transportation is good for me, I think, and I'm getting a lot of walking done. I'm still waiting for my ZipCar card to arrive, and now more so than ever since I need to take Sophie to the vet. But like all things in life, it will come with time. One way or another.

Yesterday was both my last day at Microsoft and my first day at Foolscap/Potlatch. I wrote a little bit of reflection about work on Thursday night, but before I get into the convention report, I want to write a little more about the last day of work.

( Sentimental about work )

And then I was off to Redmond Town Center for Foolscap/Potlatch. I have said for years that when I go to a convention, I can't walk ten steps into the hotel without seeing someone I know. That was true yesterday. Ten steps in, who do I see but PRS, an East Coast friend whom I had no idea would be attending. I was delighted to see her. We set up dinner, and then went our separate ways.

I attended readings by Vonda McIntyre and Mark Ferrari. Vonda read three short pieces of fiction, one of which was published in Nature, a bleak, dystopian future piece about a post-natural world. The second was a story about the future of pet cloning that was both funny and true. The third was a partial, the first thousand words of a new story about extreme body modification that had a sense of humor about it amidst the macabre descriptions. Mark read a chapter from his new novel. I've heard other bits from this book. Someone needs to buy and publish this thing now. Between the two readings, I had drinks with Vonda, Eileen Gunn, John Berry, Folly Blaine, and a couple of other people. A group of us--PRS and her friend Dawn, davidlevine, kateyule, calendula_witch, and markferrari--went to dinner at a very new restaurant in Redmond called Hugo's, where the menu is organic, gluten-free, whole foods, and all delicious. I had the chicken marsala--very flavorful. PRS had the mac-and-cheese, which had a tinge of smoky mesquite to it that was fascinating. Other folks reported that the pork scallopini was delicious. Must go back again . . . whenever it is that I'm in Redmond again.

We returned to the hotel for the annual chocolate social, where I got to meet and chat with Nancy Pearl. She remembered me from our meeting when she interviewed papersky at the University Bookstore. We all attended the briefest of brief opening ceremonies, and then adjourned to the evening's panel. It was me, Nancy, Tom Whitmore, and davidlevine discussing "Where Lieth the Line Between Science Fiction and Fantasy?" The conversation was wide-ranging and quite dynamic. Whitmore's perspective is always fascinating; he's got an encyclopedic knowledge of the genre and its history, and was both erudite and entertaining on the subject. He and David bounced off of each other about history, and David talked about what such lines meant to him from a writer's perspective. Nancy talked about what such differences meant to recommending books to readers. I talked about my experience as a college student taking a class on same, and about the question from a business perspective a bit. I think it was a well-balanced discussion and people did seem to enjoy it. I certainly did.

At that point it was 10 PM and I had to hit the road. I'm not staying at the hotel and, with its impeccable timing, the city of Seattle has chosen this weekend to close one of the two main bridges between Seattle and the Eastside for the weekend at 11 PM, so I wanted to travel before that happened. The bridge is now closed for the duration, which means I'll be commuting the Long Way to the convention today and tomorrow. It was that, or spend more than $200 on lodging at a time when I'm ever-so-briefly between jobs and just returned from a trip. The gas and energy for commuting are cheaper than a hotel room so driving is my solution for the weekend. As for sleep, well, I'll sleep when I'm dead.

Other brief notes:
--The Freddie Baer Potlatch T-shirt is gorgeous this year. I wasn't a fan of last year's design, but this year? Oh yeah.
--I may be reading poetry tonight as part of Eileen Gunn's poetry program at the convention. Guess I oughtta print out some stuff to take with me.
--Zeke's chosen form of destruction last night was to disrupt my sleep every two hours or so. What a delight it is to have a kitten. ::sigh::