Lydy's Anarchist Revival Meeting

Plague Diary: Quick Update

2021-03-02T01:32:13Z

I have completed my first week of work and I have moved house. It's been eventful. The first week of work was pretty rocky. While there were some high points, there were a lot of very low ones. I have hopes that this next week will be better.

I paid (overpaid, but it was so worth it) a very nice young man to carry all my things down the stairs, and then into the new apartment. Although I was very tired, I then found that I absolutely had to unpack. Which I did. It took me a couple of hours, but everything is where it goes, more or less. The new apartment is a basement apartment. The house is simultaneously dilapidated and well-loved. The apartment is adorable, but nothing is either level nor true. The ceiling...does not bear thinking about, so I don't. It's a drop ceiling with mismatching panels, some discolored, and several of which look like they don't quite fit. But, well, none are falling down, so that's fine. The bathroom is small, but functional. The kitchen is better than my old kitchen, with a lot more storage space. The bedroom is fine, but the bed is harder than the last one, and it hurts my back. Hopefully, I will adjust. There are a lot more outlets in this apartment than the last one. The entire apartment feels like a place that someone with very little money but a great deal of care and industry has invested a lot of time and thought.

Today, I have accomplished groceries (including the necessaries for both shakshuka and mimosas), done PT, and am picked up my bike. Cleveland today was beautiful in that very early spring sort of way, with the sunlight made of crystal, the air tasting of sparkling wine, and the wind made of knives. The lake effect wind is truly something, bright and cruel. But the apartment is cozy, and I think I shall be happy, here.

I have noticed that Pittsburgh is a plausible day-trip from here. I believe I shall, some Sunday, make said trip. Lords, but I love Pittsburgh. I might also take a quick trip to Akron, someday. Just to drive around. Love me some Rust Belt cities, I tell you what.

I am still not vaccinated, but have established that 1) as a direct health care worker, I'm eligible, and 2) Cuyahoga county has run out of vaccine, and 3) there is a waiting list, which I am now on.

I miss my cats. I miss my David. But life is not terrible, at the moment, just challenging as fuck.

Plague Diary: Recap, with contemplation on fear and bravery

2021-02-15T23:35:32Z

I’m not sure why it feels important to say all this, but it does feel important. I’ll start out by saying that I’m, as of the writing of this, fine. And yet.

I have some significant mental health challenges. Always have. I was suicidally depressed when I was 16…not that anyone noticed. Getting through my teens and twenties was difficult, exhausting, and hard on everyone around me. I’m 58, now, and I’ve come to appreciate certain things about myself. One of them is that I have, by and large, substituted routine for resilience. I am strong, but brittle. A too-hard hit from reality, and I shatter. When that happens, I dissociate, and it takes me time to reassemble. So far, I have always managed the reassembly. But it scares me, and I worry about the day when that happens and I can’t find all the bits of myself. It is possible that I am wrong, but I do truly think that it remains one of the possible outcomes. And that is one of the reasons why I rely so heavily upon routine.

At the end of 2020, I was looking at having my unemployment run out, and the profession I work in was not doing much in the way of hiring in Minneapolis. There were a few casual jobs, which were mostly being taken by people with a lot more experience than I have. While there were some day jobs, I was very worried about working a day shift. I have not had a significant recurrence of depression since I started working nights, and I think it extremely likely that there is a connection. I applied for a Traveler job and as a night tech, because on balance, it felt like upending my living situation would be less destabilizing than upending my sleep schedule. I took a job in Cleveland.

I want to pause, here, and stress how incredibly brave that was, for me. Other people have other challenges, and I am aware that for some people, this kind of thing would have been a doddle, and for others, unthinkable. For me, it was exactly at the edge of what I thought I could manage and do. I made lists, I pre-packed for weeks, I made arrangements with my family, I fretted, and I cried a little bit. I asked David, repeatedly, if he thought I could manage this. He said he thought I could, and that I was doing all the things necessary to make this work. And I was very, very afraid.

Right before I headed for Cleveland, I was just a wee bit sick, with a symptom which is sometimes associated with COVID, but was much more likely to be the Brussel sprouts I had eaten the night before. However, because I was going to be in direct patient care, and to give myself peace of mind, I ordered an at-home COVID test. I didn’t tell my family because I really didn’t think I had COVID. Yeah…about that. I should have told my family. I was irresponsible.

I was diagnosed while on the road to Cleveland, and had a full-on melt-down in the parking lot of a rest area. After that was over, I mustered up every bit of bravery I had, called my family, called my girlfriend that I had potentially exposed, and then called my employer. Being halfway to Cleveland, I went on, and after getting talked through my terror by a good friend, I called my Airbnb hosts, and told them I was positive. They were unhappy, briefly thought about not letting me check in, but in the end were very nice, so I did. Again, I cannot explain how much bravery this required from me. It was so far out of my comfort zone I can’t even describe it. But I did it.

Remember that thing about routine? Yeah, I was flying blind, with no instruments, no map. But I stayed in the air. I got the apartment set up. I set up some basic routines. I found the Trader Joe’s near me, the grocery store near me, got through my quarantine period with some added grace time to be safe, got my badge for work, and I was feeling incredibly brave and accomplished. I was alone, in a strange city, but my network of friends and family had sent care packages, taken frightened tearful calls, offered various bits of assistance, and I felt loved and cared for, not at all isolated.

Then I broke my arm. My work contract was cancelled, I was unable to care for myself, and the entire adventure was a terrible failure.

David came out, and has been wonderful. After two months, I have most of my range of motion back, although the arm is incredibly weak. My contract with Cleveland Clinic, which was cancelled after I broke my arm, has been reinstated, and I start work on 2/22. And, yeah all that seems great. So why was I weeping in terror and despair last night over a broken printer?

Because it’s all been entirely too much. I have been the bravest I have ever been in my life. I have exhibited more resilience than I thought I had. But as of last night, I still had a document I needed to get to my employer, which required I print out a physical form, and the printer that I bought for that purpose was defective, and I could not do that. Also hanging fire are the medical bills for this disaster. I do not have health insurance, and my phone appointment for medical assistance is tomorrow. David is leaving Wednesday. I have to move house at the end of the month because this unit is being rented to someone else, and they declined to switch to another unit. And, honestly, every bit of this is workable. I have a person to contact who can move my stuff into my car, and then out of my car to the new unit. I have already rented that unit. David figured out a different work-around for my paperwork, and the employer has said it’s fine.

But, dear friends, it really is too much. And what I don’t know, can’t know for a while, is how much of this is stuff I’ve dealt with, and how much of this is stuff I’ve dissociated, and I do not know what the final bill will be. I do not know if I will actually survive the reckoning. I mean, if I were a betting person, I’d say I can probably survive. I’m fifty-fucking-eight. I’ve made it this far. I’m unlikely to just shatter. But…there isn’t certainty. I need you to understand that. I need to understand that. I am not fragile, but I am brittle, and I do not know if I can survive my future. I am afraid.

Plague Diary: The Saga Continues

2021-01-29T23:02:43Z

This is just a quick update on the general State of the Lydy.

The arm is healing nicely. I do two sessions of PT, one more than is prescribed, and often more reps than is prescribed. I discussed it with my physical therapist, Olivia, and she doesn't think I am overdoing it. This has resulted in a really strong recovery. My range of motion is currently about 80% of normal. She thinks that I might not lose any range of motion, which makes me especially happy that I took the doctor's recommendation to not do surgery. While that decision was partially driven by money, it is also true that I have not had to heal from the trauma of surgery, and so my recovery is faster. I do use a hot pack after my PT sessions for pain management, and that does seem to help a lot. I gather that there's no data that this is technically therapeutic, but I have suspicions that it actually is because it increases blood flow. On the other hand, I also suspect that knitting is really good physical therapy, and I have zero cites on that, too. (The shawl I started right after I broke my arm is almost done!)

My PT exercises now include weights. Ok, one pound weights, to be precise, but I assume that we'll get to higher weights, soon. I am contemplating buying small dumbbells, a set in 2, 3, and 5 pounds. I wonder if this is just me engaging in retail therapy, or if they will be useful. I see Olivia again on Monday, so I think I will delay the purchase until I have a chance to ask her. She has said that although I will not need to do PT for the rest of my life, I will probably always be a little weak in my right arm, and it would be smart to keep up strength exercises for, well, the rest of my life.

I am pain-free for large quantities of the day. I have been able to reduce my use of ibuprofen, and today I have forgone it all together. We'll see if how that goes, long term, but I have already done my first PT session, today, and am not in shocking amounts of pain. So, it seems to be going very well.

I can now do all sorts of things that I either couldn't do, or could only do with shocking amounts of pain. I can wash my own hair, I can cut bread, I can put the bread into the oven, I can cut up cheese (I did cut myself doing this, because my knife skills are still recovering), I can pull up my pants, I can reach over my head, I can wash dishes, I can almost sleep on my right side, I can lift a gallon of water, I can scoop ice cream, I can change the sheets and make the bed, I can fill the humidifier in my CPAP (which is actually really difficult because the design of the humidifier chamber is stupid as fuck), I can drive to the grocery store (though turning corners I do a little differently because my arm doesn't quite work right), I can turn on Mr. Heater (the scary open-flame gas space heater on the wall in my living room), put my hair up in a very messy knot, and wash the bathroom fixtures. This is an incomplete list, but they are all things that were out of reach a fortnight ago.

I have gone a couple of rounds with Ben, my recruiter from Aureus Medical Group, the people that placed me at the Cleveland Clinic. He had said that Cleveland Clinic was vastly under-staffed and wanted me. So I got a release to work letter that had a restriction of lifting no more than ten pounds. It seemed to me that should have been fine, because the number of times in nine and a half years that I worked as a tech that I had to lift something greater than 10 pounds was, um, once. After a week of making happy noises but no details, Ben said that Cleveland Clinic was so short-staffed that they could not take me unless I was at 100%. We did some back and forth about what the fuck 100% means (this is not, actually, a medical term). He finally said that I needed a release to work letter without restrictions. I saw Olivia on Wednesday, and after a chat, she said that I could probably handle my job fine, and I should ask Dr. Hoyen if he agreed.

So, then I sent email to Dr. Hoyen (who has been my doc since I got out of the hospital, who recommended I not get surgery, and who has generally been quite good), asking if this was possible. I detailed my logistical complexities, including the fact that my lease here is up on February 20th. I need to either be working or moving home by that date. I got back a note today saying that while he felt I could return to work, he would like me to limit my hours. I have responded saying that they won't take me if I can't work full-time, and why does he think I need to limit my hours? I await a response.

Once I know if I am going home or staying here, I can either go home with David, or release him into the wild. I hope to know, soon. If I can return to work, but cannot do so for a fortnight or so, there's still no reason he has to be here. I can definitely shift for myself at this point. I will miss him but I bet the cats would be happy to have him home.

Pamela tells me that Ninja and Nuit, separately and together, attempted a mouse murder, last night, but failed. I have yet to be updated on their prosecution of this project. (Dunno what Lady Jane Grey was doing during this attempted homicide. I should ask.)

Meanwhile, my brain has decided to gift me with anxiety dreams, thank you, brain. I had a very detailed one in which I was trying to check into the RadishTree for a single night as a way to relax, but when I got there, they were holding Norwescon there. Why was Norwescon in the RadishTree? We may never know. It was a crowded convention and no one was wearing a mask, and I kept on finding that I had removed my mask and having to put it back on, and the auxiliary con-suite was in the suite i had rented, and then things devolved into a very bad spy movie with hidden rooms, an underground lagoon, and in addition to worrying about COVID I had to worry about being shot or poisoned. Thank you, brain!

Still, things are definitely looking up.

Love to you all from Cleveland.

And Breathe!

2021-01-20T21:24:58Z

I have spent four years studiously not thinking about the facts that Trump had control of the nuclear football and that he thought that nuclear bombs were kinda neat. There was no point in thinking about it, so I didn't. And today, I can stop not thinking about it. Thank god.

Plague Diary: Recap

2021-01-05T13:24:17Z

So, now that I can type again, I'm going to recap the last month. Nothing new here, just more detail.

December 9th was a perfect day. I had visited downtown Cleveland, gotten my ID badge, had really settled into my tiny apartment, and felt happy, competent, and successful. The next day was to be very fine, so I made plans to ride my bike. I found a park called Edgewater Park which was on the shore of Lake Erie, and had mixed-use paths. The next day, I drove there with Jezebel.

Jezebel is a very cheap bike. I mean, she does all the things, but she is an absolute budget choice. One of the places this shows is that the rail that one slides the battery down to fit into the socket to power the bike is not well attached. What with one thing and another, it took me almost 30 minutes to get the battery proper seated. This included me using my car keys to unscrew the one screw that holds the rail in place, and then rescrew it. Not sure if that helped, but eventually, I got the battery properly seated. This was somewhat further impeded by a long conversation with someone who turned out to be a drug rep who 1) was not wearing a mask, 2) insisted that he was unsure that the vaccine was safe because REASONS, and 3) informed me from his lofty heights of knowledge that the vaccine might or might not work but the manufacture was sure to be fucked, so there was no way to trust it. It was a frustrating conversation, full of mansplaining and condescension.

Eventually, I got Jezebel ridable (with no help from my interlocutor), and headed out. It was a glorious day. I was on a loop, and chose the less steep hill for the return. There was sand towards the bottom of the hill, and I knew that bikes lose traction on the sand and that I should be careful about braking on sand. I was not careful enough.

I lay on the ground and a number of people gathered around. My two front top teeth were pushed inwards. I was on my back. Given that I had obviously landed on my face and shoulder, I'm not sure how I came to be on my back. I have obviously lost a minute or two. People kept on asking me if I was ok. I told them I did not know. I used my tongue to push my two front teeth back in place, and wondered if I'd lose them. They popped back in place, and were not loose. They would hurt, later, but at that moment in time, I was in shock and pretty much nothing hurt. A very kind man, in his twenties, I think, helped me off the ground. He wanted to walk me to a nearby park bench. I told him I could not walk that far, and we settled on having me sit on an embankment along the path. When I stood up, the entire world went various colors of yellow, and I could not see. Once settled on the berm, I fretted about my bike quite a bit, and someone brought Jezebel over near me. Someone else also handed me my phone. My right arm hurt a lot, and I wondered if I'd dislocated the shoulder. In addition to the kind man who walked me to the berm, there was a young woman who was very concerned, another person who asked sensible questions I had no answer for, and a gentleman in his late forties, named David, who called EMS.

As I showed no signs of doing anything else particularly interesting, and when I told them that really, I didn't need more assistance, everyone but David drifted off. I do not know who you were, kind strangers, but your concern is hugely appreciated. Thank you for stopping and caring. David stayed with me until the ambulance arrived, went to the parking lot to get the nice ambulance people, and then said good bye and left. Thank you, thank you, David. He was calm and steady and kind and competent and all the good outcomes from then on are partly because he did the right thing. At various points during the wait, I told my bike and the various onlookers that Jezebel was a good bike, and had done nothing wrong, and it was entirely my fault. They all looked at me with alarm. I suspect that they were worried that the old lady with a huge bump on her head and blood coming out her nose was not entirely coherent. I was worried that my bike would feel guilty about having hurt me.

The ambulance had a two person team, I do not remember their names. They were competent and kind. They got me into the ambulance. I explained that I had no insurance, and did not want to go to the hospital. The guy explained to me that I was an adult and could do what I wanted, but he was concerned about a number of things, including the fact that I might very well have a brain bleed and drop dead if it were not attended to, and the only way to find out if that was going on was if I had my head scanned. I hemmed and hawed and fretted about Jezebel. I asked if maybe we could take Jezebel to my car and lock her in my car. The EMT offered to make me a deal, they'd secure my bike if I agreed to go to the hospital. I laughed and agreed to the bargain. I strongly suspect that they'd have secured my bike without that agreement, but I was also starting to feel like maybe going to the hospital was the right choice.

The other EMT, who was a woman, was unable to figure out how to fold Jezebel, and of course I couldn't help, so we ended up just stuffing her in the back seat unfolded. And then we went off to the hospital. By this time, my arm was in a sling, and the guy had daubed away a lot of sand and blood from my forehead and upper lip. The ride was long and bumpy and I was slightly nauseous. They took me to Metrohealth. The EMT said that it would be a better place for someone uninsured.

At the ER, the EMT gave them my name and vitals, and said that I was "very nauseous." I was not, in fact, very nauseous. I was slightly nauseous. I decided he was trying very hard to tell them that they needed to check me for concussion and brain bleed, and did not correct him. I was vaguely amused. This is the second time in my life I have been in an ER, and the first time I've been conscious for the experience. I'm not sure how large the team was, but it might have been as many as 8 people. They worked in a very coordinated fashion, and it was fascinating to watch. They did a quick and very thorough systems check, touching things and bending things and calling out results. I think they asked me three separate times if my neck hurt, which I believe was an attempt to compensate for the fact that people don't always know if something hurts when lots of other things hurt, and they wanted to be super careful about my neck. I was cheerful and cooperative. In the process, I mentioned that I was there for work, that I was all alone, and that I had three boyfriends. Turns out, ER people love nothing so much as a story, so everywhere I went after that, people were cheerfully referring to those details. Not at all in a derogatory fashion, I hasten to add. They seemed entertained and pleased, and seemed to like me. Yet again, everyone was just hugely kind and competent.

They did a CT of my head, and X-rays of my arms. At one point, the X-ray tech said, "Oh, boy."

I said, "Is that a good 'oh, boy' or a bad "oh, boy'?"

"Well, let's just say I'm going to be a little more careful with how I position you."

"Fuck. "I broke my arm, didn't I?"

"I didn't say that. Please don't tell the doctor I said that."

"Don't worry. I'm a tech, too. I know you can't say anything."

She turned to her assistant and said, "We'd better get a picture of the elbow, too." She looked at me and said, "They like to see the joint above and below any break, if there's a break." I grinned.

And, once again, I want to say how incredibly nice everyone one. I am utterly baffled by people who think that the natural state of human beings is cruelty and predation.

After the pictures, they put me in a room. By this point, I think I'd acquired something like six or eight blankets, because I kept on telling everyone I was cold. I was still cold. I called a nurse to tell them I needed to use the rest room. After a brief conversation in which it was established that I was perfectly capable of walking on my own, I was given directions to the nearest facility. I managed the walking just fine, but everything was so much more difficult with just one hand.

I got really bored, and got dressed and put my shoes on. Based on a conversation with the EMT, I decided that I was unlikely to be kept overnight. The hospitals, as you may have heard, are pretty damn full. I did not attempt to put my arm through my shirt sleeve (to this day, I have not done that yet, though I might try that later today). The ER doc that did my intake came by to tell me that my arm was broken, and that the orthopedic surgeons would be in to see me. More waiting. The television was extremely boring. Eventually the orthopedic surgeons came to say that they had good news and bad news. The good news was that I did not need emergency surgery. The bad news was that I probably needed surgery. They set me up with a follow-up visit and said I could be discharged. I asked about my head, and they said that it was fine.

I got to the discharge desk, and explained that my car was at Edgewater Park, and that I needed a ride there. They arranged a Lyft car for me, joshed me about having three boyfriends, worried about me being on my own in a strange city, and were very kind. No one questioned my ability to drive one-handed in a strange city after dark. I was doubtful, but also didn't see any real options. I spent about six hours, all told, in the hospital. The Lyft car took twice as long as it should have, and went through three different drivers before one finally arrived. I was so very tired, and felt vaguely ill and very very worried.

Back at my car, I managed to put on my seatbelt, which was a feat worthy of fucking Hercules, or maybe a circus contortionist. I convinced der Google to take me home via city streets, not the freeway. I am still not sure that was the right choice, but I was very trepidatious. Freeway driving is easier, in some ways, but accidents are so much worse if they happen. At one point, der Google directed me to a street which was apparently being used to park semis on. After nothing moved for ten minutes, I managed to make a U-turn, and it redirected me. It took me 45 minutes to get back to the apartment, I think. It was a long, difficult drive.

The next bunch of days, before David got here, were possible but quite difficult. I swabbed sand and dried blood out of my nose with a Q-tip. I kept on finding sand in my teeth, which I think means that I got sand all the way up in my sinuses. My upper lip had dried gunk on it every morning for several days. I developed a raccoon mask bruise, but not in purple but rather in yellow, so it looked like I had had a bad accident with poorly color-matched foundation. I managed to wash dishes and scramble eggs one-handed. I could not cut my bread, so my fresh loaf of sourdough sat on the counter and slowly went stale. (David was able to rescue it and make it into French toast when he arrived, so it didn't go to waste.) I had some serious gastric distress, probably stress-related, which resolved after a couple of days. Everything hurt a lot.

A month on, I am in lots and lots less pain, I can knit, I actually used my right hand to feed myself last night. David has been charming and marvelous about doing all the housework, even bits he doesn't think need doing. I have another follow-up this Thursday, and then unless the news is unexpectedly good or dire, I think we will head home to Minneapolis. Oh, and we finally got a good look at Jezebel, yesterday, and she seems to be in good shape, although I think there may be some sand in the shift mechanism. I should have her professionally petted and vetted before I ride her, again, but I was kind of planning on doing that, anyway. She remains a very good bike.

This was not the adventure I was looking for, but is the adventure I have had.

Plague Diary: More Increments

2021-01-03T11:46:40Z

- I can now touch type for brief periods of time.

- I now have two body positions in which I can sleep, which vastly reduces the amount of pain I experience upon waking.

- I still hurt a a lot, but a fair bit of that is the result of doing more with my arm.

- I resurrected Hermione yesterday afternoon, and made fry- bread. She is looking reasonably cheerful and bubbly, after having spent almost a month in hibernation.

I might try to make bread, today, though I would need David's help for some of the bits, and we'll see if he's amenable.

Excelsior!

Plague Diary: In Which I Am an Incrementalist

2020-12-28T22:35:02Z

Things which have improved:

- My right hand is no longer swollen

- I can now use my right hand to hold and carry things, and to grip bottles to open, if the lid is not too tight

- I can now remove my sling, wash my arm, powder it, and replace my sling without assistance

- I can raise my right am at the elbow a little

- Without the sling, my right arm can bear the weight oh a bath towel for short periods of time

- There is less pain

- The spectacular bruise in my right upper arm (running from 3 inches below the shoulder to the elbow) is now more yellow and orange and less black and purple

- I am much better at using my left hand, especially for hunt-and-peck typing

All that said, things still hurt, I still need assistance showering, and basic shit is hard.

Plague diary: update II and III

2020-12-24T18:39:18Z

I saw the doctor on the 17th. I was uncomfortable with David in the waiting room for more than 30 minutes when it was just not well ventilated not well spaced so I saw doctor by myself. I would've liked a second person there to hear what the doctor said but I just did not feel it was safe for him. Safer for me because I theoretically have some immunity. The doctor said first of all that the break is in two places on the "ball" of the humerus, but it's nice and tight and it is not a place that they feel that they can put a cast. He wants me to take my arm out of the sling and let my arm hang straight for a while and also to raise and lower the arm at the elbow to keep the elbow from getting stiff. I have been doing this, and also putting jock itch powder on it twice a day because I got a yeast infection on the skin from leaving it in the sling for a solid week.

I saw the doctor again on the 23rd. They re-x-rayed the arm, and the doctor says that it looks better than the first set of x-rays done right after the accident. He said that he would be willing to operate but that he does not see the need. Moreover while the operation might be an improvement there is no guarantee because of the way he would need to move the muscles and tendons out-of-the-way in order to get to the bone. He wants to re-x-ray in two weeks and see how it's going. He feels that I will get back about 75 or 80% of my original functoinality back, but because the shoulder is so mobile I will not notice the deficit much. He also said that I should be able to return to work in about four more weeks. David and I have had a quick conversation and decided that for a variety of reasons including the fact that I will be better able to help with the driving in a fortnight and continuity of care it probably makes sense to stay in Cleveland for at least another two weeks, and have a follow-up x-rays here. Things still hurt lots and lots and lots, but it is actually less than two weeks ago. Improvement is happening; it's very slow.

Plague diary: update

2020-12-11T20:57:18Z

I have made an appointment with the follow-up orthopedic doc for Thursday the 17th. They will re-x-ray, and the receptionist says that's the fracture is not displaced and I might just have a cast for six weeks. Guess we'll see what we will see. If anybody uses the dictation function on a macintosh, can you tell me why it types my clauses in this twice. The editing is actually a pain in the ass.

Plague diary: in which biking in Cleveland is a bad idea

2020-12-11T15:28:56Z

Hi guys.. I fell off my bike yesterday very hard,, broke my arm in two places in two places.. Work contract canceled Work contract canceled.. Oh it was my right arm isn't that special. Not sure what's going to happen next, I'm using dictation software which is terribleI'm using dictation software which is terrible. Oh and I'm also going to probably need surgeryOh and I'm also going to probably need surgery. And no I don't have health insurance. Wish me luck guys bye

Plague Diary: In Which I Bike in Cleveland (Well, Technically Maple Heights)

2020-12-09T22:16:17Z

I went to the main campus for the Cleveland Clinic today to get my ID badge. Once again, the automated fingerprint reader had trouble reading my fingerprints. We eventually got that done, but it was a bit irritating. On my drive there, I saw a barber barbering in a barber shop, without a mask. I involuntarily cried, "Why, my dude, why?)

When I got home, it was about 37 degrees, and I have not been on a bike since November 23rd. I could check my records, but I'm pretty sure that's the longest I've gone without a bike ride since I started riding in May. I got Jezebel, my folding e-bike, out of my car, unfolded her, and set off in a random direction. I was basically planning on just doing a couple of miles. I took whatever road looked interesting and not too busy, and trusted that Google Maps would bring me home again. This did, indeed, work, and I ended up riding about 6 miles. I got honked at for riding in a perfectly safe and legal fashion on a slightly busy street. Welcome to Cleveland, I guess. The pedal assist is, among other things, really easy on my knees, to the point where I'm wondering if I can ride without my braces. It was a lovely ride, even though it was a very dark, grey day. I wore my high visibility vest, and put on the blinkies front and back. Then I folded Jezebel all by my self (first time I've done it without David's help) and put her back in my car. It was a lovely ride. Even if I only get another couple rides this season, it will have been worth it to pack Jezebel.

There's a squeaky rattle in the front. I suppose I should see if I can find a local bike shop. Sigh.

I start work on Monday. I'm very excited.

Plague Diary: In Which I Admire Cleveland

2020-12-07T21:53:08Z

I have been freed from Durance Vile! In celebration, I WENT OUT and DID THINGS.

The first thing I did was drive to Warrensville Heights, to the Bed, Bath, and Beyond there because they have a 2 quart dutch oven that should fit in the toaster oven and enable me to make bread, and it was on sale. I was a bit croggled by the sign on the door that said that the store was rated for 576 customers. That seems appalling in non-pandemic times. In pandemic times, yeah, fucking terrifying. There were, however, nowhere near that many people. I found the dutch oven I wanted, in a fetching blue, and a cheese grater. There was a Staples in the same strip mall, so I went there to get a Sharpie (how did I ever decide to leave the house without one?) and some scotch tape, which I will need when it finally comes time to wind the last skein of silk into a ball.

I got in my car, told der Google to take me to downtown Cleveland, and did what it told me. Please do not ask me about routing, as I couldn't answer if I tried. It has been a grey, grey day with short spats of pellet-snow and brief moments when the clouds part and the winter sun shines down clear as crystal and sharp as a knife. Warrensville Heights felt, topologically, very much like the Midwest. Rolling hills, that sort of thing. As I drove to Cleveland, there was this abrupt change to topology and architecture which felt extremely Rust Belt. Very reminiscent of Pittsburgh, although the hills aren't nearly as steep. I got to Cleveland, and decided that it was cold and I was lazy, so I didn't get out of the car. Instead, I just tootled around in my car.

I like Cleveland. I mean, to look at. I haven't really interacted with it as a city, so much, so this is entirely looks. But the downtown is actually rather lovely. The Standard Building and the Rockefeller Building were both stand outs. There was this weird monument that I couldn't really get close to that had some dates in the nineteenth century on it, so I'm thinking probably a Civil War monument of some sort. It had a bunch of lovely muted earth tones, and some heroic figures and a very tall pillar. I shall go back and look at it more closely. There were other bits of lovely public art, a strange green man reaching for the sky while standing on a swirling sphere. No idea what that's about, but I liked it. A huge huge rubber stamp that says "free". A weird black tube, twisted in a shape that reminds me of what I used to do to paperclips when I was stressed, at least a story high. I got glimpses of the lake, but it is supposed to be much nicer, later this week, so I plan to go back when it is warmer and there is reliable sunshine.

Cleveland was pretty empty, for a Monday afternoon. I do not know how much of that is because of the pandemic and how much of that is because the city core is in trouble. Probably a combination, if I had to guess. I think a majority of the people I saw out and about were black. This is notably different from Minneapolis, but in a very welcome way. I grew up in a multi-racial neighborhood, and my hindbrain associates a a mixture of skin tones as safe and welcoming. (More precisely, I grew up in a neighborhood that was experiencing block busting, and the only two races were white and black, with the former fleeing year by year and the latter increasing year by year, but I honestly never noticed that at the time.)

I then drove to Trader Joe's, picked up enough frozen dinners to last me for two weeks of lunches (my freezer is now full) and some other basics. Although they were metering people, Trader Joe's was uncomfortably crowded. I was masked, and so was everyone else, but it was really difficult stay at least 6 feet away, and it was just....I mean, I haven't seen people in a while, so maybe that was part of it? But man, it felt close and worrying. I will try to figure out a less busy time to go. At this exact moment in time, I should probably be both somewhat immune and not contagious, but I don't really want to count on that. I am very, very careful about being masked when I am out of the house.

When I got home, there were GIFT SPICES. Thank you, Ambyr. I am delighted and pleased.

The toaster oven is preheating with the dutch oven inside. In mere moments, I'm going to go put the bread in it, and see what happens. I have no idea how long to cook it for, no idea how well the toaster oven will manage, it's all very uncertain and I'm excited to see what happens next.

ETA: the bread came out fabulous. Life is just great, this very instant in time. I'll take it.

Plague Diary: In Which I Have No Cardinal Direction

2020-12-07T03:00:31Z

I just want to say that the sheer number of people who have helpfully informed me that if I wish to see Lake Erie all I need to do is drive north is adorable. The idea that I, Lydia Nickerson, could somehow use that as information that would help me choose a direction in which to point my vehicle points to a touching faith in my ability to, I dunno, read a map, maybe? I have literally no idea what direction North is from here. I have a vague feeling that Minneapolis is West of here and NYC is East of here, but I honestly would not want to bet money on it.

Plague Diary: In Which I Plan to Leave the House!

2020-12-06T20:58:46Z

Tomorrow will be 14 days from my positive test. I have had almost no symptoms the entire time, and what symptoms I have had could plausibly be attributed to stress or allergies. But by every metric I have seen, I should be safe for public consumption tomorrow.

I plan to figure out where downtown Cleveland is, and drive there. Also, to go to Trader Joe's for some basics. (I am running out of Manchego cheese, for instance.) Maybe I will also try to figure out where Lake Eerie is. I'm told it's very big, so it shouldn't be hard to find.

If anyone has any opinions about things that are nice to see in Cleveland that don't involve going inside, do mention them in comments.

I am definitely getting cabin fever, at this point, despite how nice my little apartment is.

Plague Diary: In Which I Buy Fripperies

2020-12-03T23:17:12Z

So, I ended up buying the Aquarian Tarot and the New Palladini Tarot, because the art style really appealed to me, and I couldn't choose between them. I was also entranced by the Hush Tarot ( https://www.etsy.com/listing/788646643/hush-tarot-cards-guidebook-set-oracle?ref=hp_rf-6&cns=1 but I don't feel that I could read with the deck, although I very much like the art.

I was yesterday years old when I discovered that there is such a thing as an insulated skirt. And then I found this: https://www.etsy.com/listing/592028368/black-riding-skirt-for-winter-equestrian?ref=hp_rf-1&frs=1

So, yeah. It's expensive, but Naomi Kritzer said that if I thought of it as a winter coat for my legs, it was reasonably priced. So, yeah.

I think I have too much time on my hands, or something. But I bet that skirt is fucking amazing.

Plague Diary: In Which I Wish I Had a Tarot Deck

2020-12-03T02:24:56Z

I own...not many. Five? Six? I find that I wish I had packed one, and now I'm thinking that maybe I should use this as an opportunity to buy a new one. I'm looking for suggestions.

My favorite deck has been the Morgan Greer deck, which is pretty much the Rider-Waite deck, but with the people somewhat more foregrounded. I dislike Crowley's deck, the name of which I cannot recall; it has too much non-consensual power in it. I don't want a deck that's many different art styles. I do care about the artwork, though. I want full color, not black and white. I do not resonate to plants. I am not interested in very modern or very twee. I don't want something heavily inflected by an ethnicity I do not have, so things like Celtic or Egyptian or African or whatever are just not going to speak to me. Oh, round cards are right out. I am reasonably traditional, but not very serious. Extra points if it comes with a booklet or cheat sheet. Oh, round cards are right out. And I am not willing to spend huge amounts of money.

Should I just get another Morgan Greer or Rider-Waite? Or is there something cool out there I should look at?

Thanks.

Plague Diary: Plague Diary

2020-11-30T03:00:49Z

So, I want to make a quick record of possible symptoms, in case I need to rely upon it later. I'll put it behind a cut, because you may well not want it in your feed. But I don't have any of the most notable symptoms. No fever, no shortness of breath not explained by exertion, and reasonable SpO2.

11/17: Ate left overs, including some dubious brussel sprouts, and had a lot of diarrhea. It lasted about four hours, I think.

11/18: I went to the get my fingerprints done, and also stopped in the clinic to get my bloods redrawn. I answered yes to the question about diarrhea. Doctor asked me if it was just that one time. I said yes.

11/19: Requested saliva test in what I thought was an abundance of caution. Because the question was on the COVID screening form at the clinic, I decided that I wanted to be sure I wasn't a danger to my patients. This was literally my only symptom, and the diarrhea had become loose stools. Since I have this from time to time, and I was under a lot of stress, I really didn't worry too much about being positive. Went for a bike ride.

11/21: No significant symptoms, Went for a bike ride.

11/23: Took the saliva test. Went to several stores to finish up shopping for the trip. Was in each of them a short amount of time, and never close to other people, but I am worried for them, now. Specifically, I went to the Freewheel Cycle in Richfield, Richfield Petco, the Walgreens at 66th and Nicollet, the Wedge, and the UPS store. Dropped off the test at UPS. Went for a bike ride.

11/26: Felt very slightly light-headed. Nothing significant. This is also not one of the symptoms that they warn you about. Had Thanksgiving dinner with my household. In retrospect, I regret this.

11/27: Felt light headed first thing in the morning. Got in my car and drove for 11 hours. Normal rest stops and so forth. Looked at my email about an hour out of South Bend, discovered I was positive. Freaked out, called loved one, called my employer. Stayed the night in South Bend, Indiana, in an hotel where there were loud parties.

11/28: Drove to Cleveland. Slightly light-headed in the morning. Informed my Airbnb host. He met me at the property, stood probably 20 feet away, welcomed me and gave me details on the systems in the apartment. He was incredibly kind and welcoming and I cannot say enough good things about him. Hauled all my shit up to the second floor (nine trips). SpO2 was in the low 90s after that exertion.I continue to have slightly loose stools, but again, nothing particularly notable, especially given the amount of stress. I have also had slight chest pains, but I get those from time to time, and they are probably muscular. In any case, they aren't associated with breathing and they aren't on the left side. So, really who knows? Persistent but not terrible head ache. Taking ibuprofen

11/29: Was not light-headed this morning. Slept well, Am, as I write this, very slightly light-headed, but I believe that to be a stress reaction. Also, it's been about 4 hours since I ate, so that might have something to do with it. Brief period of tinnitus. Still loose stools. Persistent head ache, taking ibuprofen.

11/30: No symptoms as of 2 pm. Slept well. I feel quite good, although I have a wee bit of cabin fever. Per instructions, must stay in until Friday. I wonder if I have enough groceries for that? I appear to have forgotten to get potatoes, for instance.

12/1: Some isolated coughs last night, felt "bronchial" and some wheezing. Would probably think it was a winter cold or asthma. Only got about 5 hours of sleep, and so I am a bit tired today, but not catastrophic. I have a head ache that seems to be waiting in the wings. Not an actual headache, just the promise of a headache to come. Also some slight, very very slight pain just under my collar bone. Again, were it not for COVID I would discount it.

12/2: Woke up with a runny nose, murderous head ache. Sinus headache, most likely. Took temperature before I took ibuprofen, 98.4. Have now taken ibuprofen. Man, my head hurts. Oh, also a bit light-headed. This really seems like maybe sinuses?

12/3: 9 hours of sleep. I feel pretty great, actually. One isolated cough, this morning, and I continue to think that these are just normal winter asthma coughs. I am doing grocery pick up again today, and I think again I will have the person put them on the ground, just to be super super safe. There are so many things I don't want, but chief among them is not not give this to another person. (Oh, and in the really good news department, the one person I spent time with outside my household has her negative result.

12/4: Got less sleep than I wanted. Feel perfectly fine, but I had a chat with David and my throat felt...strained? Not sore, but as if talking took more stress than normal. Could this be because I am talking to no one? Or is it COVID? Who the fuck knows? Also, as I was falling asleep last night, I could hear liquid vibrating in my ear as I breathed, which is annoying. Nasal drip is _not_ a COVID symptom, so hurray for that.

12/5: 10 hours of sleep, feel great. Also, the nasal drip seems to have resolved.

12/6: Had trouble getting to sleep, but eventually got 9 hours. I feel just fine. Tomorrow, I am releasing myself into the wild. (MDH said I could be released on 11/27, but I chose to be way way more conservative.) So, the plan is to figure out where downtown Cleveland is, and drive there.

12/7: Terrible insomnia. Got about 5? hours of sleep. On the other hand, I feel just great. So, yay for not being sick!

Plague Diary: In Which I Have the Plague

2020-11-28T02:35:18Z

In preparation for my gig in Cleveland, and because I had a minor gastric event, I submitted a saliva test, administered on Nov. 23rd. Today, while at a rest stop in Illinois, I checked my email, and found that the result was positive.

I am currently in Indiana, and will go on to Cleveland and quarantine there. I have informed my employer, and he will inform the Cleveland Clinic, and let me know how to proceed on Monday. Even if the contract goes up in smoke, I will stay in Cleveland until I'm safe to go home.

I am very, very worried about my family. I am somewhat worried about myself.

As our president has said, It is what it is. It didn't need to be this way, but it is.

Queen's Gambit on Netflix2

2020-11-23T22:47:40Z

"Queen's Gambit" is a 7 part series on Netflix about Beth Harmon, who is a hot mess but really really good at chess. It is set in the mid-Sixties, and most chess people seem to think that the chess is pretty good. I have declared bankruptcy when it comes to chess. I might remember which pieces move how, but I can't even remember how to castle. So, yeah, I cannot critique the chess. The actress who plays Beth is really, really good, and that is probably the biggest strength of the show. One of the things I actually liked a lot is that Beth's emotional landscape is sufficiently alien that it seems incomprehensible, to me. It is consistent and coherent, but not emotionally accessible. And I really liked that. I'm pretty neurotypical, and most non-neurotypical representation spends a lot of time trying to explain and explicate. Beth just Is who she is. There is a ton of stuff to like in this show, and I liked it quite a bit. In the end, though, I have some very serious problems with it. In my opinion, it had some extremely important failures.

I want to start with Jolene. I really liked Jolene when she was first introduced. Sassy, angry, not interested in accepting the power structure she was living in. I mean, yes, please. Also, a black girl, good, thank you, not an all white cast. Except. Jolene is the only person of color in the entire show. And Jolene ends up being a stereotypical sassy black girl and magical negro.

Jolen has been living at Methuen House for some significant period of time when Beth gets there. Jolene looks to be a bit older, but since Beth is adopted at the age of 15, and Jolene has not yet aged out of the orphanage, she cannot be more than 3 years older than Beth. Which puts her upper age at the time that Beth meets her at 12. So how is it that Jolene is so street savvy? Where does she get her information about drugs and sex? I can only conclude that of course Jolene knows these things because she is black. Which, honestly, is very very gross. Jolene exists in the narrative entirely to support Beth's arc. She vanishes from the story when Beth is adopted, and then reappears to dig Beth out of her hole of drugs and drink. In the mean time, she's acquired a wonderfull 'fro (always loved that hair style), an education, a car, and a white boyfriend. How any of this happened is a mystery. Indeed, Jolene remains a a tool of the narrative, and not a person. And this was, honestly, not necessary. I get that time is precious in drama, and that this is Beth's story, but if they had cut any 5 minutes of Beth's drug use, and done quick shots of Jolene doing things, or maybe established a correspondence between Beth and Jolene (where Beth was forever not answering Jolene's letters, probably) they could totally have gotten away from this stupid magical negro trope. It was lazy, and weakened the story. There was so little sense of family between Beth and Jolene, that Jolene coming back and loaning Beth a huge amount of money never felt authentic, just kind of syrupy heartwarming, like a cheesy Hallmark card.

I have mixed feelings about the lack of gendered bullying at the chess tournaments. This is set very solidly in a time and place, and that time and place was spectacularly sexist. It seems literally impossible that Beth was not treated to various insults, and we see none of it. In a way, I'm kind of grateful not to have to deal with it. But at the same time, it's absence seems counterfactual at very best. I can absolutely see that Beth might be the sort of person who simply failed to register much less engage with various chess experts insisting that the female brain cannot manage chess, failing to register gendered insults. Thing is, that kind of obliviousness comes at a cost. And we don't see that, either. There is one mention of how she's irritated that the Life magazine article was more interested in her gender than her chess, but that's pretty much it.

This plays into my larger problem with the way they fail to engage with the theme of the damage sexism does. We see the trappings of it. It's clear that Alma (her adopted mother) has suffered from it. But that theme is not developed, and we get at least as much about Alma's stage-fright as a reason why she was trapped as we do about the huge sexism that she would have been subjected to. One can guess that her birth-mother, Alice, was also oppressed and damaged by trying to do serious math while girl, but that is never explicated. Beth, herself, experiences almost no impediments based on her gender. They passed up, for instance, a golden opportunity when she bought the house. In 1971, my ex-husband's mother was UNABLE TO BUY A CAR because neither her father nor her husband (who was committed for paranoid schizophrenia) could co-sign it. Getting the house in Beth's name was probably not just a doddle. What they have is the set-dressing of sexism, but they never do anything with it, and it is frustrating. The themes are alluded to, but they are not explored. They end up being set-dressing, and not part of the engine of the plot. They are extraneous, in a way that they could not be for any woman doing what Beth was doing at that time.

I have absolutely no problems with Beth's various ill-advised sexual exploits. I mean, seriously, let us all look away from my 20s, ok? I made a worse mess than Beth does. But she never really seems to engage with her choices, or doubt them. This is the fucking Sixties, man, and I am not talking about the free-love piece of it. I am talking about the suburban, repressed, up-tight piece of it which is where Beth lives. She was raised, for fuck's sake, in a Christian orphanage, and it seems impossible that this didn't give her at least someself-loathing and negative attitudes toward sex. And yet, we see nothing, there. No doubt, no curiosity, no worry. There is one mention of pregnancy, by Alma, and Beth refuses to engage on the topic. I gotta tell you, even with easy access to birth control (and Beth most assuredly did not have such access) pregnancy is a pretty constant worry for a sexually active woman. And, again, it is certainly possible to play it so that Beth just...doesn't engage with that shit. But there should still have been reaction shots, people who did have a problem with Beth's sexuality. The fact that the incredibly great denouement has Harry and Benny, both of who and fucked her and been fucked over by her, interacting with each other with absolutely no friction or tension between them....yeah. I do not believe that. And, again, it would have taken a 10 second scene between the two of them where they look at each other, bristle, and then decide the chess is more important. And it would have been nice to see Beth at least do a double-take when she wakes up with Chloe in her bed. Look, I am telling you, homosexuality was fucking invisible to people like Beth in that era.

In the end, although I really enjoyed it, it felt like a huge set of missed opportunities, and more like cotton candy than a substantive piece -- except for the chess which was evidently quite substantive. Unfortunately I don't know enough chess to appreciate that bit.

I have no problems with spoilers in the comments. This post should serve as a cut-tag for spoilers.

Plague Diary: In which I Am Employed, Probably

2020-11-12T23:38:30Z

I am not yet at the end of my extended unemployment benefits, but I can see it from here. I've really been ramping up my job search, and worrying about various options. One of the facts I have been considering is that I have had no significant depressive episodes since I started working nights. While correlation is not causation, it seems very likely that there really is a causal link. I could work a day job. I have done it before, I am fairly certain I could do it again. But I think I would probably need significant chemical assistance, both in sleeping pills and possibly anti-depressants. I am a big fan of better living through chemistry, but an even bigger fan of arranging one's life so that it isn't a fight every goddamn day.

There haven't been a lot of sleep tech opportunities in the Twin Cities, and I have not been chosen for the ones that I have applied for. Presumably this is because every other unemployed sleep tech is also applying for them, and there are any number of very good techs out there. So I also applied at two different traveling companies, that send you on a temporary basis to places that are looking for staff.

The first recruiter I talked to was...not good. In particular, he was very cavalier about the issue of housing. I am, obviously, going to maintain my residence at Blaisdell Polytechnic, which means that I need to pay double rent. The company did not provide housing or housing assistance, and everything that the recruiter said really seemed to imply that he was more comfortable working with 20-somethings who could fit their life into their car and who wanted to travel for fun. He was waxing poetic about the joys of working in Florida. Yeah...I'm not going to Florida. It may be a small thing, but man it was also vastly off-putting that his voice mail signs off with "Have a blessed day." Do people who do that have any idea how alienating that is for non-Christians? At any rate, I haven't heard from him in several weeks.

The second company I applied with is called Aureus Medical Group. The recruiter seems all together more competent and serious. (He did give me a weird pep-talk on how the job he was putting me in for was not a cake walk, and he hoped that I understood that I would actually be working. In addition to that just being odd, it contrasted wildly with the other recruiter, who was all "Sometimes you can show up for a shift and they'll just send you home!" as if that were a special perq.) The actual pay is not great, but they also pay a per diem for housing and food that is quite generous and pre-tax. They do offer benefits, though they don't seem real good. (Like vacation is a week after one year's work!) The insurance will probably be better than nothing, but again, not spectacular. However, it is work in my field, it is a night job, and I actually would like to work.

I had an interview with the recruiter, which went well, then filled out a ton of paperwork. He said that he had three possibilities, and that he would put my application in to all three of them. Later that day, I got a call from Cleveland Clinic, scheduled an interview. Per my recruiter, they must have called me about 5 minutes after he put my application in. I did well on the interview, they made me an offer, and I'm off to Cleveland. I'll be working four tens, not three twelves, which is what I'm used to. The shorter shift may well be nice, and the additional day probably doesn't matter that much, because I will not be having a social life. There's still one piece of administrivia that we haven't sorted. I asked to start after Thanksgiving, so I could have Thanksgiving at home. Which means I need to leave the day following, and won't arrive until Saturday. But I have to have my fingerprints done before starting work and I start work on Monday. So, waiting for all that to get figured out.

I found a small, not dire airbnb for quite cheap that is reasonably close to the Cleveland Clinic. I've had a couple of email exchanges with the "host" and she seems perfectly nice. It doesn't have a proper oven, so I don't know how I'm going to make bread. There was a lovely lovely apartment for about $600 more a month, but as DDB pointed out, for the price differential for one month, I could buy a table-top oven. It's basically a bedroom, living room, and incredibly small kitchen that looks reasonable functional, though with very little storage space. And a bathroom. It's a stand-alone unit, I don't have to share space. It is on the second floor, and I hate stairs, but well, such is life, right? The neighborhood is "Maple Heights" if you know anything about Cleveland. Me, I know nothing. It looks fine on Google street-view. Who knows? I know no one in Cleveland. On the other hand, it's not safe to socialize, anyway.

I'm stressed and scared. I do not know if this is safe or wise. But because the government is what it is and has done what it has done, I'm up against it. If they had just paid for everybody to stay home for six weeks, we could be looking like New Zealand. But they didn't, and we don't.

Advice welcome, especially if you know Cleveland.

If You Do Discord, and Want Company Election Night

2020-10-28T22:17:03Z

I am thinking of opening a chat channel on Discord to talk about the results. I am fully aware that we won't have final results Tuesday (barring something intensely unforeseen), but I don't see how I'm going to be able to avoid watching the returns. I could use some company.

Here's a link that should be good for 24 hours. I'll re-up it if it seems like there's interest.

This will be a very anti-Trump space, and if you are rooting for Trump, please, please go elsewhere. Like, forever.

Here's the link:

https://discord.gg/NSWk5F

P.S. I've never tried to do anything on Discord, so there may be technical difficulties. Help and or suggestions welcome.

Biking: Milestones and Conclusions

2020-10-11T22:23:09Z

First, milestones. Not all that important, but I do like metrics. I have biked 59 miles on Nice Ride rental bikes, 460.6 miles on Jasmine, and 95.6 miles on rental e-bikes. This means that since late May, I have biked 519.6 miles on a conventional bike, and a total of 615.2 miles all together. (Also, average speed on the Nice Ride bikes was 7.1, on Jasmine 9.1, and the bikes 10.8. Some of the gains for Jasmine are she's a better bike, some are because I'm a better rider. No idea what to make of the e-bike mph.) I have also acquired three pairs of bike shorts, headlamp and tail light, two different weights of windbreakers, and a safety vest. So much for not wanting to have to have special clothes to exercise in.

My conclusion is that Bde Maka Ska is more fun during the day and that the Greenway is more fun at night. The Greenway is straighter, and better paved. At night, the path around the lake is twisty, bumpy, and I can't look around because I really need to watch the path, and can't see far enough ahead to look out over the water.

Also, that damn strained muscle in my upper thigh is not getting any better. Which is irritating, but there you go. I've been trying to do some of my PT exercises for my back, since they seem to also stretch that particular muscle, but I'm damned if I know if that's a good or bad idea.

Books on Tape? Deacquistioning

2020-10-05T20:23:08Z

If you would like some books on tape, and by this I mean actual, honest to god, cassette tapes, I am getting rid of my collection. To be clear, deacquistioning makes me tired and sad, so I am not dusting, sorting, or cataloging. I have almost entirely unabridged editions (any abridged editions would have been purchased on accident), and it is largely sff and mystery, with some classics and nonfiction. If you are looking for something particular, and I think I have it, I will try to find it for you. But all this lot goes to the Goodwill in a couple of days.

I know that I have some Heinlein, Doomsday Book by Connie Willis, a number of Jane Austen books, the Harper Hall books by McCaffrey, Dragonflight and Dragonsinger, The Hobbit, all of LOTR, Dune, a bunch of Robert B. Parker, some Sue Grafton, a fair amount of Dorothy Sayers. At least some of the Laura Ingalls Wilder, I don't think I managed to acquire the entire series before I stopped collecting books on tape.

I will cheerfully drive a butt load of audio books to anywhere in the Twin Cities. If you want the lot, I would be utterly charmed. I could be talked into shipping them, but you really need to be taking a bunch of them in order for it to be worth my while to make it the post office.

It is always wrenching to me to give up possessions that at one point I cherished, even if they are not longer useful to me. It feels like giving up a part of myself. And yet, time waits for no man, and I'm not even a man. So, then.

Musings on Two-Thirds of a Locked Tomb

2020-09-30T21:41:26Z

I re-read Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth. (This time, I read the text of Gideon, and listened to the Audible production of Harrow, the opposite of the first reads.) I understand So Much More, now, and I still love them to pieces.

Spoilers to follow. Random things I'm sure of:

The Sixth House is Mercury, Among other things, they are healers and the cadaceus is a symbol of Mercury. Also, the Sixth and Seventh Houses are closer to the sun than the First House, and the Seventh House is clearly Venus. So, that's sorted. Also, pretty sure that the Fifth House is Jupiter, in part because of the name Magnus. I don't remember why I thought the Fourth House was Saturn. Third House is Neptune because of Naberious Tern's trident. And Eighth House is Uranus because they are assholes. So, those are my theories, there.

Gideon's voice was much clearer in the second person narrator in Harrow on my second reading. I should have seen the humor there, but missed it because I was so busy trying to figure out WTF was going on. Ianthe was much worse, on second reading.

The Body is clearly Alecto (or Annabel Lee). Her haunting of Harrow is separate from the revenant existence of Wake. I am pretty sure, at this point, that Wake has been in Gideon's two-hander all along, starting from when Gideon was first given the sword...by Aiglemene. Which leads me to wonder if Aiglemene knew about that haunting, and if so, what her intention was when she gave the sword to Gideon.

Early Imperial time line still gives me a headache, but it's very clear from what Mercymorn said that God and Alecto had already completed the Lyctor theorem when the Lyctors-to-be and their cavaliers met God, because the eye swap had already happened. Mercymorn talks a lot about Alecto being a monster, and one of the many, many ways that John the God broke faith with his lyctors was by failing to actually kill her. I did not see anything identifying her crimes. But, well, given the milieu, they must have been SPECTACULAR. So, if God had perfected the Lyctor Theorem, why did he make the lyctors-to-come do their own research? What was the nature of Anastasia's failure? Also, apparently the first Gideon did something similar to his cavalier as what Harrow did to Gideo.

Harrow's end point in the book is clearly a bubble in the river, similar to the one that Sextus created. Complete with one book. Was this where she had Gideon stashed? In the crypt of her beloved, with a titty mag for distraction? I mean, that's...creepy and adorable all at once, which would make it so very like Harrowhark it hurts my heart.

Palamedes and Camilla did not complete the Lyctor Theorem. Camilla's eyes were always grey. The baby that she's caring for in the epilogue I suspect of being Alecto. And I think she's on a world outside the empire where necromancy is forbidden. So, perhaps the Blood of Eden is planning on using Alecto as a weapon against John the God, which makes sense, but really brings to the forefront exactly what kind of monster Alecto was.

I was fascinated by how much I really wanted to like John the God. He really comes across as kind and funny and this is so very uncomfortably close to the my experience of the God of my childhood that it's difficult to describe. It is also clear that John the God is a complete sack of shit and an abuser, beside Not that Mercymorn is my favorite person, not by a long shot. But I will also say that existing in an abusive relationship for a myriad will make you a less good person than you wish to be.

One of my friends really didn't like the amount of modern slang in the prose, and found that it threw her out of the narrative. I find myself wondering how much language would freeze, even in a myriad of years, if there were immortatals who were still using those idioms. In order for that to be the mechanism, obviously the Lyctors would have to be in regular, extensive contact with the rest of the society, and I don't really see a lot of support for that. I will say, though, that I never had a problem with that aspect of things. Also, I just love love love the mixture of colloquial, sometimes rude discourse with the stylized, religious discourse. This, again, replicates my childhood, with the sacred and the profane jumbled together in ways that one doesn't expect, sometimes in ways that make one uncomfortable.

.

So, here's my non-spoiler question: Are these books an anti-colonialist narrative? It is almost banal to observe that all empires are built on death and lies, but rarely do you see the former so literalized. It slowly becomes clear that Muir actually is thinking about the ethical implications of thanergy as the primary power source for the empire. (One is almost inured to bones when God is introduced, but I do not think we should ignore the EXTRA CREEPY aspect of his laurel wreath being ornamented with infant finger bones.) At this point, I think that the text does not deny that reading, but I am less clear on how explicit it is. (I do note that the name of Wake, which might be a clue, here.)

At any rate, if you have other things you want to share, or corrections, please do. Comments may be as spoilerific as you like.

Plague Diary, In Which I Neep in Bicycle

2020-09-12T00:45:34Z

So, I stayed off my bike for a whole four days. Couldn't stand it, today, went for short ride. This may or may not have been a bad idea. I was planning on waiting until a thigh brace came, and it is scheduled to arrive tomorrow, but, well. Patience may be a virtue, but it sure ain't my virtue, is what I'm saying, here. I have acquired a number of tech and non-tech toys for my bike, and I'm gonna just neep randomly about them. If this stuff bores you, really, there's no reason to read farther, I promise.

Safety vest: I got a very cheap, bright yellow with reflective stripes, mesh safety vest which I wear if I bike after dark. It does make me vastly more visible, which is a good thing. It also has four pockets, and I am keeping my headlamp in one of them. The headlamp also functions, when not attached to the bike, as a pretty nice flashlight, which has been invaluable for locking and unlocking my bike in the dark.

Speaking of which, headlamp and taillight: I bought cheap ones off Amazon. The headlamp has an option of two levels of intensity, the 400 and I think 200 lumens. 200 lumens is really quite sufficient. One can also set it to blinky, but I don't. Even with the bicycle basket in the way, it does provide enough light to miss small potholes and such. It has a rechargeable battery via USB. It is entirely adequate, and also came with a red taillight that takes CR 2032 batteries, and does a steady red, a slow or a fast blinky. I usually put it on slow blinky. These, plus the safety vest, plus the red blinky on the back of my bike helmet, make me feel highly visible after dark. So far, no one has run into me. Yay.

Urban Biker App: David found an app for Android phones called Urban Biker which will keep track of your route, and give you speed and duration and a lot of other data. The speed is an average based on GPS data. It allows you to set up a number of different profiles, and also has profiles for walking, driving, scooters, and so on. It also doesn't share your data unless you ask it to. I've been using it pretty consistently, and it claims that I have now ridden Jasmine 291 miles. Which is kind of amazing. It also has the option of synching with a variety of sensors, and the FAQ lists the sensors it likes best. If one had a Fitbit, for instance, it would report your heart rate if you asked it to. As I am really not biking for health benefits, I don't care about that. But I am interested in speed. I also became interested in cadence.

Which takes me to the Mangene speed and cadence sensors: these are sensors that the FAQ says that Urban Biker likes. They were relatively cheap on Amazon, and although it said they came without batteries, in point of fact, they shipped with batteries. CR2032, of course. The sensors are identical, and you can switch them from speed to cadence by taking out and putting back in the batteries. The cadence sensor goes on the pedal crank, and the speed goes on the front hub. They were easy to install (David helped) and easy to synch to the app. I did a fair amount of reading about desired cadence, a great deal of which was very confusing, and a large it of it geared toward peak performance for racing or endurance, and of course, I care about neither of these. It sounds like the ideal cadence is between 70 and 90 per minute, which is most efficient for the muscles, or something. But the other thing I saw, that really got my attention, was that lower cadences were associated with more knee strain. I believe this to be because lower cadences are associated with higher gears, and therefore harder work for the knees. What I do notice is that when I target cadence instead of speed, I am more willing to downshift, and less enthusiastic about up-shifting, and that my knees do hurt less. My average cadence, at the moment, is about 67. On hills, it drops into the low 50s. But it has increased since I've been paying attention. My average speed is about 9.7 mph, which isn't too bad, especially when you consider that when I started out, my average speed was about 6 mph. (Yes, children, I am very old. And very, very out of shape.) I also got the speed sensor because it is supposed to be more accurate, but I will say that the speed it reports seem very similar to the speeds that the GPS average system was reporting. (And for those of you who have been paying attention, yes, I am interested in the whole performance thing, a little, but only as a way of thinking about what I can and can't do, and what's fun, what my range is, and not as a way of achieving some other health goal. I mean, I'm sure I'm getting some health benefits, and that's great, but it is not my focus. On the other hand, being aware of what my range and stamina is helps me plan rides.)

Padded biking shorts: I bought an incredibly cheap pair on eBay, and wore them for the first time, today. They help...I think? I mean, my butt is still sore, but maybe it was better? It wasn't transformative, but it did seem to be an improvement. I am unsure if this means that a better quality would be dramatically better, or if this is all there is, and there's no point in the much more expensive shorts. But, well, I expect that these won't be very durable, so at some point if I decide I like them, I will have to decide whether to replace them with more expensive shorts or not.

Windbreaker: I bought a used, very cheap windbreaker on eBay as well. Its a mens XXL, and a bit too large for me, but as I said, dead cheap. And it did help a lot in the weather, today. And when it rained a little bit, I did not get very wet. So, we'll call that a win, too.

And, enough of bicycle neeping. I do hope those of you bored by this didn't bother to read it.