Categories
Uncategorized

An unexpected journey

Well, not complete surprise. We were planning to leave for Houston tomorrow. But the weather had other ideas – there was a winter storm warning coming up, so in less than an hour we packed everything, threw it into the car, and headed south. I’m hoping that by cutting down to New Mexico and then across to Amarillo we’ll avoid the mess in Kansas and Oklahoma.

It was an okay drive… mostly. We got over Monument Hill just as it was starting to snow. It seemed like clear sailing after that, but there was some kind of isolated storm just north of La Veta pass and that got a little dicey. The highway was covered with snow and I ended up following the tracks of a semi that passed us.

…which swerved kind of alarmingly at times. I half expected to see that guy on his side and off the road, but we passed him again later after the snow had stopped and he seemed all right.

Raton pass was shockingly all right, though there was a scary moment where the highway signs said the highway was closed up ahead – but the road was clear. I guess we got to the pass right as the highway was opened back up, because the highway was open, and that stretch of road was just wet.

Anyway, we’re down in Santa Fe and doing all right. Had some awesome quesadillas and got aggressively panhandled at the restaurant. So that was sure a new one. The internet at this hotel is absolutely terrible, but I think I’m going to fade out pretty soon anyway. I drove for six hours straight and I’m just utterly fried. Mike doesn’t do bad weather or dark when it comes to driving, so it was basically the Rachael show all the way down I-25.

Goodnight, and… more driving tomorrow. So much more driving. We’re aiming for Wichita Falls. We don’t have to be in a hurry since we left a day early.

Categories
Uncategorized

Gong Xi Fa Cai! (Happy Chinese New Year!)

A little late, and I’m sorry about that (though Chinese New Year is still going… it’s not a one day thing). This week has been crazy with thesis stuff and getting moved stuff. And then actual Chinese New Year weekend (2/2-3), I was busy. Doing what you ask?

(Photo by Amy Kho)
(Photo by Amy Kho)

Let me show you.

Categories
tv Uncategorized

And by the way, this is how the finale of Downton season 3 should actually have ended. (SPOILERS)

Did I mention spoilers?

Categories
Uncategorized

If I keep following Kevin Bacon, it’ll end in a restraining order.

Because Downton Abbey sucker punched me right in the heart, I decided a serial killer soap opera chaser was an awesome idea.

So Kevin Bacon is a drunken maverick and some shit with his sister and he sort of but not really bonds with Mike the adorably scruffy FBI kid but… I actually don’t even care that much. Aside from a flashback that involves adorably drunken Kevin Bacon, the FBI people have lost my interest entirely, and I’m really just watching them for the big reveal that everyone but Kevin Bacon was a secret serial killer all along or some shit like that.

This show is truly a soap opera, and the serial killer threesome of Jacob, Paul, and Emma are where it’s at. As disturbing as it is to admit that.

“You kill Megan and I’ll make pancakes.” And this is why I find them compelling in a way that creeps me out if I think about it too much. They’re so disturbingly… domestic. And familial. And they have so much more in the way of interpersonal dynamics than Kevin Bacon being drunk and grumpy and tragic and refusing to actually have meaningful interactions with anyone he hasn’t slept with.

With our serial killer trio the huge revelation for this episode is – gasp! – Jacob’s never really killed anyone! (Paul ratted him out; I’m guessing Jacob must have confessed to him during a drunken (no homo!) makeout session.) The shock with which this is greeted by Emma is adorable, like someone being told their lover is somehow actually still a virgin. But he seemed so normal! Later we get a flashback of the story he made up about killing someone, like he was just trying to impress his frat brothers.

The poor woman Megan goes from being Paul’s problem to Jacob’s, as Emma and Paul decide this is the perfect time for Jacob to bust his serial killer cherry. And instead, Jacob ends up letting her go, which really does lend credence to Emma’s earlier question of what in god’s name he’s doing with this crew of nuts. Paul and Emma chase the girl down, roll around in the mud a lot, then go take a shower together.

And this is the bit that made the episode for me, if made is really the word I want. Jacob discovers Megan, muddy and tied up in the basement. Then goes to find Paul and Emma in the shower. They both look at him, tell him we aren’t going to give up on you and then, I shit you not, there is a group hug. Can someone please explain to me how the hell three supposed psychopaths have become the most human characters in the series?

I am now officially incapable of watching this show un-ironically. Well, I think I lost that ability somewhere during the second episode, but I’m admitting it now. Emma/Jacob/Paul has become my OT3 and I’m not sure if I can even live with myself any more.

Categories
Uncategorized

And now my house looks like this.

[pe2-image src=”http://lh4.ggpht.com/–Y3JmfNhSa8/UR7EMmHr5SI/AAAAAAAAKwk/998WMwLxqEA/s144-c/2013-02-15%25252011.24.38.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/DropBox?authkey=Gv1sRgCLryga_w-LbXeg#5845325087043740962″ caption=”2013-02-15 11.24.38.jpg” type=”image” alt=”2013-02-15 11.24.38.jpg” ]

 Which is close to the same view as this:

[pe2-image src=”http://lh4.ggpht.com/-5snIc_WEP9c/URXql05HloI/AAAAAAAAKu8/mQEi1HQsKaE/s144-c/2013-02-08%25252023.18.56.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/DropBox?authkey=Gv1sRgCLryga_w-LbXeg#5842834027157362306″ caption=”2013-02-08 23.18.56.jpg” type=”image” alt=”2013-02-08 23.18.56.jpg” ]

 So yes. On Thursday a trio of nice men (Marco, Francisco, and Greg) came to my house and took everything away. It’ll be delivered down in Houston on the 24th or 25th. And it only took them about two and a half hours to load, since everything was packed already.

It’s really weird to only be going back to my house to clean things. I’m finally starting to really have the point driven home… we’re moving. We’re leaving Colorado. I’m still trying not to think about it too much, to be honest, since I still have my thesis defense waiting ahead. But we’re living with my parents for now (it only took two days for the cats to stop freaking out about being in a new house so that’s good) and we’ll be driving down to Houston next week to get Mike set up there before I fly back to Denver.

And then I’m just here for a few more weeks before I stuff the cats into another car and do the drive again. (Yeah, wish me luck with that. Hoo boy.)

This is weird. I’ve lived in Colorado basically all my life, or at least all my life that I can remember. It’s weird to be leaving.

Categories
Uncategorized

Science is my engine of wonder

In response to something seen on tumblr:

This makes me sad in so many ways. I’m a geologist, and that science has done more to introduce me to the grandeur of the world than nearly anything else – and perhaps oddly, to make me feel more connected to the rest of humanity.

I always feel weird quoting myself, but I’ll do it anyway because I don’t think I can come up with better words at the moment. In the wake of the Sendai earthquake, I wrote this:

The Earth is so very, very old, and so very, very vast. We are tiny, and frail, and even the longest life any one of us can hope to have is less than the blink of an eye in the history of our planet. The Earth does not care about us. We have no special significance. We have only each other.

We are all just engines that run on chemical reactions. Our thoughts are just electrical impulses. We are all just made of the same atoms has gravel and slugs, heavy elements that were made in the heart of a dying star an unimaginable stretch of time ago. Maybe it’s easy to get lost in the dry minutiae of it, but step back and consider those things for one moment. We are all mindlessly simple and at the same time breathtakingly complex. Everything is connected on the most fundamental of levels.

I can walk to the top of a lithified dune and know that dinosaurs once walked there; and know the incomprehensible length of time over which the dune was built, sand grain by sand grain by the wind; and know that even today more dunes are being built and insects and mice and humans walk across them and some day, someone else might see those dunes as rocks and wonder who we all were and how we lived; and know that quatz is made of a framework of silica and oxygen made more beautiful by the intrusive imperfections of other atoms; and know those atoms came from deep within the Earth but before then came from the death of a star, and before that and before that…

(and maybe this is why I have never felt the need for religion)

I read a lot of science fiction and fantasy. I write both. And I know my art will never be perfect until I can fully express the overwhelming wonder that fills me every time I consider this fundamental fact: I am just like a badger, like a banana, like a diamond that was ejected from Archean basement rock in a fountain of magma traveling at approximately the speed of sound, and I can dance and dream and love.

Categories
Uncategorized

This is what my house looks like right now.

So yeah. That’s an adventure.

[pe2-image src=”http://lh4.ggpht.com/-5snIc_WEP9c/URXql05HloI/AAAAAAAAKu8/mQEi1HQsKaE/s144-c/2013-02-08%25252023.18.56.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/DropBox?authkey=Gv1sRgCLryga_w-LbXeg#5842834027157362306″ caption=”2013-02-08 23.18.56.jpg” type=”image” alt=”2013-02-08 23.18.56.jpg” ]

Categories
Uncategorized

Following Kevin Bacon on a Bender

There is something intensely awkward about, “previously on The Following…”  Maybe they should rethink that one.

So this week another little serial killer got his murder on, going after people for revenge because they made Professor Poe-Obsessed Serial Killer’s life rough. It made revenge seem very shallow and petty which, to be fair, it mostly is. Only the whole revenge aim lacked the motivating rage that makes the story of vengeance at all interesting, and so pretty much just turned into, Gosh if I kill enough people maybe daddy will love me best. The twist at the end might have been more surprising if there hadn’t been a “oh and this person is a serial killer too!” twist at the end of every episode thus far. I’m waiting for Kevin Bacon’s mom to call him up and tell him, “Honey, I just ate a sorority girl’s face.”

Anyway, is it bad that serial killer chick Emma is getting to be my favorite character in the series? I’m highly amused by the way she apparently approaches serial killing as art – “We’re supposed to find out own voice.” Murder, now a thousand times more pretentious. I’m also thinking that by now, everyone around her should know not to even look at her funny when she has a knife. She gets slashy.

Well, and in every sense of the word. In one of the more meaningful flashbacks (and there were a lot of flashbacks, many of which really didn’t seem to have much of a point) we see Emma cheering her two fellow serial killers to kiss because they have to pretend to be a gay couple. It gave me flashbacks to my first Yaoi Con. I mean, for the trying to get boys to kiss. Not the murder.

Other than Emma being disturbingly likable for a sociopathic mom-stabbing killer, the episode was basically a study in Kevin Bacon’s stubble, which sort of ranged anywhere from manly and rugged to Wall Street trader after a three day bender, and seemed to shift between these states at near randomness. Maybe the man just needs a new razor.  There’s a lot of slightly open-mouthed, dark-eyed and moody staring, accompanied by the aforementioned stubble. And another agent calls him “vodka breath” which was kind of the high point of the episode for me.

To be honest, I’m not sure why I keep watching this show. But I will be back next week for your regular Kevin Bacon stubble report.

Categories
Uncategorized

Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters

This will come as a surprise to no one at this point I’m sure, but Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters is a terrible movie. And please note the use of the word terrible as opposed to bad. To a certain extent that I should probably be ashamed to admit, I rather love bad movies. Because bad moves that are gleeful and scenery-chewing in their badness (e.g.: The Man With the Iron Fists and Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter) are actually very fun.

But no. This movie is terrible in the way Avatar: the Last Airbender was terrible. It is so devoid of joy and life that it actually begins to suck the life from the audience, like some sort of evil, cinematic vampire. The only thing that made Hansel and Gretel at all better than A:tLA was that I didn’t have to listen to my husband’s running list of complaints regarding the poor quality of Katara’s tai chi in this movie. On the other hand, A:tLA also had the (un)intentional hilarity of Aasif Mandvi to enjoy for his brief moments of smirking. No one in Hansel and Gretel was half that lively.

I received a text message in the middle of the movie (don’t worry, my phone was on vibrate) and I got up and left to check it, hoping for good news. All said and done, I probably missed a good 5-7 minutes of the movie and I could not have cared less.

I think it could have been a fun movie if there had been a nod and wink to the audience like Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter had given us in abundance. Instead, Hansel and Gretel couldn’t seem to decide what it wanted to be. It was overly serious about a concept that should have been darkly hilarious, needlessly gory, and with anachronism that made the entire thing feel off balance rather than whimsical. I feel like they really tried to get their R-rating, set out for it, and there is absolutely no purpose behind it. I like the word fuck as much as the next person, but frankly there was no point to its addition to the dialog beyond a badly aimed attempt at edginess that the movie did not warrant and should not have needed.

The one and only thing I liked about this movie was Gemma Arterton as Gretel. Not because I was in the least bit convinced by her performance or interested in her character, but because for once there was a woman in an action-y movie that got to be badass without being made simultaneously into a sex-kitten. She never has a love interest. She never gets subjected to sexual assault or humiliated based on her gender. I really liked that

But on the other hand, the woodcut-like illustration of the opening titles made me deeply uncomfortable at the beginning, which I think killed any cheap enjoyment I might have garnered from the overly fake gore. Frankly, all I could think of from the beginning was the Burning Times. This is not a mental association that’s a recipe for fun, no matter how deliberately anachronistic the setting becomes later; I started the movie feeling creeped out and the feeling never went away. (I realize this is not a reaction the vast majority of people will have, and I can’t say why it bothered me as much as it did; I certainly didn’t go in expecting to feel that way. But it may explain why I personally just could not find anything even remotely cute in this move.)

I wouldn’t even waste my time netflixing this one unless you’re desperate for some Jeremy Renner and can’t find The Bourne Legacy anywhere.

Categories
Uncategorized

Lighting a candle instead of cursing the disturbing internet circlejerk of hate.

Recently I’ve been reminded of the sad existence of a guy, internet handle of Vox Day, who frothily hates pretty much everyone who isn’t a white, straight, Christian man. (And no, not linking to his site, because gross. Google it if you want to end your evening snorting borax. Actually check that, I think I should be fair and link to what he’s posted of his platform.) The reminder came in the form of him throwing his hat in the ring to run for SFWA president, and oh hell no. Because of things like this:

[F]emale independence is strongly correlated with a whole host of social ills. Using the utilitarian metric favored by most atheists, a few acid-burned faces is a small price to pay for lasting marriages, stable families, legitimate children, low levels of debt, strong currencies, affordable housing, homogenous populations, low levels of crime, and demographic stability.

Which he later defended as “science” somehow, and I’m not sure if I find this more despicable as a scientist or just as a general human being. As someone who isn’t Christian, male, or all that straight, the ways in which he offends my sensibilities could be a dissertation all its own, and would probably end with this:

So anyway. I don’t get to vote in these elections since I’m a lowly associate member, so all I can really do is just sort of stare at the process. I imagine the expression on my face while doing so is similar to the first time I saw a roadkill armadillo by the side of the road in Texas.

Rather than raising my blood pressure over an awful little internet circlejerk of hateful and small-minded people, I would much rather do something good. John Scalzi came up with a good thing to do: every time Vox Day shits forth a blog post that mentions Scalzi, directly or indirectly, Scalzi will donate money to charity. And we can play along at home, too! The more he hates, the more we give.

I once donated $50 to a candidate for state senate purely because her opponent sent me transphobic campaign advertising. I’ve given money to Jane’s Due Process and Planned Parenthood before just because the Republicans did something to piss me off. This is right up my alley. I’ve committed to $1 per hate-filled screed, up to $200 at the end of 2013. Come, join in the fun!