Being Unfaithful

I gritted my teeth yesterday and called a certain headhunter I had ranted about in July. This woman, try as I might to believe otherwise, is an idiot. And a screw-turning, roller skate-wearing bitch.

She made me jump through endless hoops in July to get "fully inputted" with her effing contractor firm. I dutifully jumped through them all, re-wrote the damn resume till the wee hours of the morning, turned in multiple reference lists (they lost one!), etc.

So yesterday, I'm talking to her and I say I've been out on two interviews -- one with that giant software firm in Redmond who's Name We Dare Not Utter -- and she immediately jumps down my throat. "Who did you interview with? Which department exactly was it?"

And then, of course, the ridiculously jealous question: "WHICH other vendor was this through, hmmm???"

I mentioned a large vendor that gets a lot of people work. "Oh them," she hissed into the phone. And then the final blow: "Well, we can't TELL you not to register with other vendors. You don't have to swear undying loyalty to us but ..."

The implication here is, if you register with other vendors while we park our collective asses on your resume and you get work with another vendor, we will feel slighted, hurt, betrayed. So I'm stepping out on this vendor! Stepping out with any ol' other headhunter that happens to drop a sweaty email in my in-box.



In the immortal words of Justin Timberlake, "Cry me a (fucking) river."

Adventures in Stupid

I went on my first 'organized' hike via an online group here in Seattle yesterday. While the leader was friendly and extremely enthusiastic, I thought she was well ... stupid.


Don't be a Laura Palmer

I had to bus out to an East Side Park & Ride to meet up with her so we all could carpool out to North Bend and Mount Si (former home of the TV show, Twin Peaks). The weirdness started at the P&R. I showed up, called her and then spent about 20 minutes on my cell phone trying to figure out where in the P&R she was. Sadly, the woman didn't know east from west or north from south. She kept saying "I'm on the other side of the parking garage". Which other side?

After I met her, she talked a lot about bagging peaks, summiting as quickly as possibly, etc. I calmly said I'd be going at my own pace, as in the advanced-arthritis-in-both-knees-deformed-feet-sane pace. Also, I'd never done the trail and had zero familiarity with it.

Eventually eight other people showed up, most wearing cross-training tennis shoes and carrying, what I thought, were pathetically small water bottles.

After an 85-MPH drive east on I-90 to North Bend, we reached the trail head and our leader (and the other uber fit) bounded off up the trail.

Within 30 minutes I was Ms. Dead Last, which is fine, but the PNW trees are so dense I couldn't see the group and that unsettled me. There were a lot of other people on the trail, herds of roaming Labradors, etc. but still ...

I got about 3 1/5 miles up the trail and was soaked with sweat, my feet were already killing me. I had just bought new/used hiking boots the day before and it was now a brutal contest between my smashed, bruised feet and the inside of the boots which had gone from soft and comfy to hard and unforgiving.

By 7:45 it was shifting from twilight to very dark and I decided to head back down and wait for everybody at the trail head. I had brought a flashlight but I didn't want to be crawling back down the trail in the dark, flashlight in my teeth with my feet throbbing with every step.

At the trail head, I ripped my damn boots off, put my trusty Keen sandals on, watered up, slathered mosquito repellent on and flopped down on a picnic bench to wait. I watched the sun disappear and waited for over two hours.

The main group didn't come down until after 10pm.

Personally, I think this is NOT the way to organize and run an evening hike. I don't care if you're an Olympic tri-athlete and you think the trail is basically an extension of your backyard. Hiking sans organization is a recipe for disaster. The only reason nobody got hurt on this woman's death march? Dumb luck.

I'm still reeling from the fact that she regularly goes out on all-day hikes with her 3-yr-old child sans map and a compass! She told me she was planning on putting her child in some sort of Beginning Rock Climbing Summer Camp ... when he turned four. Yikes!

I'm gonna put on my former Forest Service employee apron here and try and explain a few things. People die in the wilderness all the damn time.

The No. 1 way people get hurt or killed in the wild is THEY SLIP AND FALL. Half the time this can be prevented by not being an idiot: wearing supportive (and yes, comfortable) shoes, going at a moderate pace, watching where you put your feet and not sprinting up the trail like a deer on crystal meth.

Packing enough water so you don't get dehydrated and understanding basic orienteering (like the sun sets in the WEST, so if it's on your left shoulder, you are hiking roughly north, okay?) always helps.

So I wrote a little review of our hiking trip on the website, I was nicer than on here but I'm sure bounding trail runners on too much caffeine now hate me. So what. They're headed for a fall, I'm trying not to.

Hiking was the most common preinjury activity (55%)

Most Popular Ways to Die in the Wilderness

The 10 Essentials for Wilderness Hiking

And looking at the 10 Essentials now I can't help but want to edit a little.

Here's my 10 essentials in order of importance:

1. Water (and/or the means to purify water) (2 liters per adult MINIMUM)
2. Matches (and a lighter or any other fire starter)
3. Extra clothing (a hoodie, fleece, windbreaker, dry socks - SOMETHING!)
4. Knife (or Leatherman Tool or similar)
5. Food (trail mix or something high calorie with carbs and protein)
6. Flashlight or headlamp (more necessary in low-altitude, dense forests vs. high deserts)
7. A compass (and the basic ability to use one)
8. Sunglasses (I'm blind without my prescrip shades)
9. A map (good topographic printout preferred)
10. Simple first aid kit (and/or a mirror or some sort of signaling device)

Bob's gone

A close friend of mine died yesterday. Bob was a longtime Boeing employee, who worked as a technical writer and a successful children's book author who's best seller "Jump Frog Jump" has been translated into over 20 languages and one live performance musical. One of Bob's author bios.

Between getting the news today via cell phone and then going to Bikram yoga, I was just completely wiped out. I'm supposed to go to the memorial service as soon as his kids have it set up. I don't know what to say. I can't go into who this guy was right now. I feel kinda numb, like I was just dropped down a well.


Robert 'Bob' Kalan, Asian Art Museum, January 2008

Isn't it interesting how we all can only perceive death from our own tiny little perspective? Tomorrow, I have to go buy something black.

PETA anyone?

I just read another kick-ass story from LA Weekly. Seattle's version of a weekly blows. It's nothing but endlessly re-cycled restaurant reviews and ineffectual swipes at the local city government.



In order to get decent alternative weekly stories here, you have to grab a copy of Dan Savage's The Stranger and wade through the catty gay-boy gossip to find the meat-n-potatoes. But LA Weekly is fun in a slightly Goth sorta way. It's got endless tales of weird sexploitation and for some reason, a surplus of animal hording stories. This latest one had my heart going out to the rich, naive Yuppies of Palisades.

My Favorite Nifkin is no more ...

... thanks to some cyberhackers who banded together to become a pain in my ass. So my blog is now all about brine shrimp love.



Actually, that's really unfair to cyberhackers or even just hackers. Hackers are NEVER this fucking stupid. These two are world-class tools who left an electronic trail back to their ISP accounts a mile wide.

Technically they're just sad little third-rate grifters with cocaine problems and parents who are shutting off their trust funds. So they take it out on me, their 'friend'. While I'm on fucking vacation, on my fucking birthday! Lovely.

I'm going to go listen to Lennon's 'Instant Karma' now.

The bible tells me so!

Just found this link via Thom Hartmann's site. This looks like a group I need to join. I took their first quiz and was amazed.


Still likes meth and man ass!

To think the evangelical nuts in Reno were screaming this shit at me from the pulpit when I was all of eight years old.

Take the quiz and become 'enlightened' as to goat boiling ... oh yeah and lots of stonings!

Freedom From Religion Foundation bible quiz

More Bush/Cheney Justice

For anybody out there who still thinks we DON'T need to proceed with war crimes charges against the Bush regime:

Chicken Wine

If you, like me, are looking to fall softly into alcoholism rather than with a hard thump, try chicken wine.



Yes, that's right. Chicken, as in poultry. Granted, I have no idea what, if any, involvement the chickens have in the actual making of the wine (it's all in French) but I think it has the makings of a true god-like elixir.



True, it's bright Kool-Aid red but where's the pissy after taste? Where's the depressing vinegar aroma? Not here! Chicken wine. The best thing EVER to come out of a over-priced crappy, hippie-infested PCC store.

Real Gone Girl ... at least I'd like to be

So I'm slogging thru a half dozen websites trying to wrangle up a plane ticket and then transport to and from LAX and I just keep thinking, if this was Europe, I'd be there by now. I mean they have trains/subways that run from Heathrow directly to stations that take you all the way to freaking Scotland!

But just getting from LAX to downtown L.A. is going to be an exodus with mini-vans, shuttle buses, obscure bus stops, etc. 'Merika is like a shining example of how NOT to plan an infrastructure. I was just reading in Good Magazine about how FUBARed our Amtrak system is compared to well ... everybody. Estonia has a better rail system! I'm sure their health care is superior too.


Just like King Count Metro, only with more smells!

So while I'm doing all this, I should plug two indie comic book writers I met about two months ago:

Jobnik!
I feel bad I didn't buy any of Miriam's trade backs when I met her.

Gunplay
But I am glad I met Jorge and did buy one of his. Now if only I hadn't missed the deadline for this.

Schmap ... Map ... what rhymes with 'schmap'?

Pic taken last October at the Fremont (weekend) Street Faire.


I've been short-listed yet again for inclusion in another Schmap on-line photo thing. I got picked for one of my Vancouver pics last time. It was a pick I took in December '07 when I made a run for the border. Why they pick these particular pics, I'll never know. The Vancouver one was taken while I was standing on Jericho Beach but it was aimed across the Burrard Inlet at North Vancouver ... yet it's listed under Jericho Park on their map thingie. Whatever. Now if they'd actually start paying somebody royalties.

In other news, I'm crazy busy with this short-short term contract at Microsoft. Much nicer campus than Boeing's, that's for sure. The commute out on state highway 520? Don't even get me started. Grrr.

Oh and the Hipster asshats next door warranted a call to the cops last night. Really nothing quite like listening to someone plunk the same two cords on a amped acoustic guitar until 1am on a Tuesday night. I hope the sad little Connor Oberst wannabes got fined this time. And now here's me up at 5:45am to trudge out in the monsoon to Microsoft. Double grrr.

Now with 43 percent vag owners!

Just discovered (always the last to know) a cool blog for female fans of Sci-Fi and there's a lively rant on it by one of the female editors in response to a lame-ass article in the New York Times about the SciFi channel. The quotes in the article are priceless!


Vag owners like it too.

In marketing materials for “Battlestar Galactica,” for example, there are no spaceships, and the story lines try to create more of a balance between action and emotion.

Gee, I always thought people (yes, including vagina owners) liked BSG because it was WELL WRITTEN. Hello?!

It is not just “Star Trek” or “Star Wars” that would fit the definition. Superheroes, Indiana Jones and even the baseball fantasy movie “Field of Dreams” would all be considered part of the genre as defined by Sci Fi’s programmers.

'Field of Dreams' ... that thing about baseball and Kevin Costner? Oh, PLEASE. It wasn't even a good drama.

I've been reading and writing science fiction, fantasy and surrealism since I was, oh, about 14 years old. I had no less than four friends (all female!) in a couple of my fiction writing classes back at college that were all avid Sci-Fi fans and wrote Sci-Fi.

One of the greatest contemporary authors in North America has written no less than two novels that Barnes & Noble would have to struggle NOT to put in the Science Fiction/Fantasy section of their cheesy stores. She's won the Booker Prize, the highest prize you can win as a fiction author AND the Arthur C. Clarke Award.

Dig it.

That ugly monster, Reality

I've been enjoying (weirdly, not as much as I'd like to) being laid off. The pinnacle of my new unemployment has been watching hours of Battlestar Galactica on DVD. It's like crack, more addictive than those fraking Harry Potter tomes. In fact, the show reminds me of the best adult comics I've ever read. You pick up a Brian K. Vaughan book and you have to read it cover-to-cover right NOW, no interruptions.

So maybe it's kizmet (or too many ganja brownies), but I picked up the latest Stranger and right damn there on page eight is an ad for Seattle's annual Emerald City Comicon. And I'm actually 'free' those days and available to go to it. And I actually think I can swing the entry fee. What's weird is Jamie Bamber is going to be there. At first I just thought Bamber was way too toff and really bland. Then I decided bland was the new black and decided I liked him in BSG. He's like a really nice rug that pulls the whole room together.


The new black is bland.

But meet one of these TV celebs in person (along with 500 scary fans)?! Yikes! No way! I hate it when reality intrudes on fantasy and that's what television is. Damn good fantasy. This would be like finding out the way-too-cute guy in the corner office at work, the one you've lusted at from afar? Has halitosis, nose hairs long enough to braid or a weird sexual kink like dressing up in French maid outfits and being spanked. It would be like visiting your favorite aunt in California during a glorious California summer planned with horseback riding and trips to carnivals and accidentally walking in on her while she was changing her colostomy bag. Reality is a rude, earthy business and I try very hard to avoid trucking in it.

Baltar is right to prefer the Caprica 'in his head' to any of the 'real' versions. Who wants reality when you can have fantasy?

Half the World

I'm like the last feminist on earth to find this. Joss wrote it last year and it's a flawless essay on women's rights. Anyhow, better late than never.

Whedonesque.com

I'd like to re-post it here but I don't wanna step on any toes. Those BtVS fans are defiant, touchy people and they guard their websites ferociously.

If you only click on one single link the whole three seconds you spend surfing my blog, it should be the one above. I have complete essay envy. I wish I'd written it.

" ... the out-and-out confrontational confidence of the totally ignorant is, in my experience, gendered."

I haven't read any Rebecca Solnit in a while and that's too bad. She was one of the required reads waaay back in Women's Literature in 1995. Anyhow, somebody on Fbook posted one of her recent essays. And it rocks. But then everything she does rocks.



Considering I work with socially-retarded male engineers and calcified company bureaucrats all fucking day long, this essay seems especially topical.

Chick Lit ... grrr

I'm copying and pasting this thread from a Facebook group on feminism. I've abbreviated every poster's name except mine to protect people's privacy. It's a damn interesting thread and worth repeating on this blog.

Topic: The Orange Prize for Fiction & The Fawcett Society

N. (West Midlands) wrote.
Just to let folks know that I have just written an essay on the UK controversy over the existence of this literary prize for women. In the essay I also talk about the work of the excellent Fawcett Society. Hope you enjoy.

Link to N's essay here.

My reply to N's post.
Read your letter/essay. Awesome. Yeah, the complainer is clearly deluded.

While women in the US do make up the majority of college liberal arts programs (English lit, etc.) -- so what? Men still outnumber women 8 to 1 in the technical (and better-paying) fields like engineering.

Of the five English teachers I had in high school, only two were women.

A random sampling of the NY Time's bestseller's list will still show that male authors dominate publishing in America and always have. While more women work in the lower rungs of publishing (admin. assts, readers, proofers, etc) I'm sure most of their employers are men.

J.K. Rowling herself was told by her first publisher to use her initials or else she would be 'less likely' to get published.

I've been told by several fiction lit. professors to use my first initial and/or my nickname (Mel) so as to not give away my sex.

When I was a newspaper reporter in the 1990s, the vast majority of my editors (and upper management like publishers) were men. It's still extremely rare to see a woman editor overseeing a city newspaper.

I think you hit on a really good point in your essay when you talked about high school-aged boys 'zoning out' whenever they were asked to read something by a female author. And I think they are conditioned to behave that way.

"Chick Lit" anyone?

A's reply to my post.
Without even bringing technical fields into the equation, your statement can be clarified even more than while women may make up the majority of college liberal arts programs, college students in general, and even associate professors, they are a clear minority when it comes to being tenured, acting as chairs, and in the upper-level management of colleges (such as Presidents and Provosts).

N's response.
thanks for the response so far. Yes there is that phenomenon of women writers using initials-A.L.Kennedy, A.S. Byatt, and J.K.R herself. Think too of George Eliot, Currer Bell and the rest. Interesting too that you've found yourself in the same position. My other half works in publishing and reports that women are very well represented in the industry in the UK. But well represented enough? There's a lot of tokenism still going on, and many of the key literary editors in Britain are still men. Take the major UK poetry editors: Lee Braxton (Faber), Robin Robertson (Cape), Don Paterson (Picador), Neil Astley (Bloodaxe), Michael Schmidt (Carcanet). Talented they may be, female they are not.

C's response.
With JK Rowling it was more a case of appealing to young boys, who would be less likely to buy a book they might see as 'for girls', it was just to get a wider audience.

I'm not sure that it is a huge problem if young boys are defining their masculinity and want male role models.

I prefer books by women, because I love women and how women write and see the world, and I think this is an area in which I'm not going to be convinced (to buy books by men, which is a huge generalisation, and all I can do is to say simply I prefer books by women), and I'd hate to preach.

By the way I know this is perhaps contraversial and I'm just offering it as my perspective with complete respect.

My reply to C's above post.
>>With JK Rowling it was more a case of appealing to young boys, who would be less likely to buy a book they might see as 'for girls', it was just to get a wider audience.

A-hah, good point. I hadn't even thought of that. Christ, are they really THAT biased toward male authors? That's just tragic.

A Gentle Intervention

I got turned on to this about two weeks ago, funny as hell. I'm so glad they won a web award.



In other news, I am sick. Yes, after months of skating past the mine field of winter flu colds, I have fallen into a pit of flu-iness. 'A eel like 'RAP!

Bleh!

Awesome Blog Post

The lady who runs Fugly Horse of the Day just posted the most awesome personal essay about mythical "horse sense" and why some people seem to be these super psychic horse whisperers and why the rest of us just flail away in the saddle feeling like idiots and wondering just what IS going on inside that big furry head???

Yes, that kind of riding

I did a wild, crazy thing a few weeks back. It's along the lines of taking up surfing at 50 or learning to Rollerblade at 45. I started taking horseback riding lessons at a good school 20 miles north of Seattle.

Between the ages of 11 and 18, I begged, pleaded and pestered my Dad for riding lessons. His answer was always "no way". Horses were (and still are) large dangerous animals, I was (and still am) incredibly accident prone and my Dad was one of the most powerful attorneys in Monterey County. There wasn't a stable in central California that would take me. They were too scared he'd sue them if I slid off and broke an arm (an injury that happens to equestrians with monotonous regularity).

So as part of my effort to have a fun mid-life crisis, I started taking lessons. Last Sunday I tried "posting" for the first time. Of all the wacky physical shit I've done -- swimming laps in an Olympic pool at 29, fighting wildfires at 38 -- this is probably one of the most difficult. It's very technical, you have to concentrate on the horse and you have to time it just right. The video below makes it look effortless. Just bouncing up and down on a saddle, right? Wrong. It's way, way more involved than that.



And if one more idiot tries to equate horseback riding with some weird-ass form of masturbation, I will hit you right in the face with a sweaty, 10-pound horse blanket covered in pooh!

Poo ...

Finally proof that you literally can sell shit to yuppie/hipsters.



This is a luwak, they are a cat/raccoon type creature that lives in the jungles of Indonesia. They eat ripe coffee plant berries and then poop out the coffee beans. And then enterprising Indonesians collect the poop, roast the, uh, beans and sell it as an exotic, expensive coffee.



On a side note, Indonesia is like 99% Muslim. Is this really halal (kosher)? So eating the flesh of pigs is unclean but eating raccoon shit is okay???

That's your moment of Zen on this blog.

Signs of Seattle

There's more where this came from. Check out the latest on my main Flickr account. There's giant bronze robots and carbon emissions.