LJ Inbox messages or emails are best for letting me know you'd like to be added, have added me, or otherwise need my attention.

Of all the times to lose the ability to contact and be contacted, the past several days have been amongst the worst.

My personal laptop had been suffering for months from various issues and fixing them had become complicated by the machine's inability to take any heat at all - not a good limitation in a Texas summer, even with A/C and fans. After several days of plugging away at the various things that had gone wrong and figuring out how to keep it cool enough, I finally got it clean and then found getting online wasn't as easy as I thought it would be and took way more time than I'd planned. Disastrous.

Add to this the fact that the cell phones aren't working (various reasons, one of which is re-evaluating the expense) and few people realising there's a landline number in my contact info and...ugh. Just ugh.

The biggest, saddest, most unfortunate thing is that Heather "Ivy Green" Wright aka vorona passed away. Thankfully she was asleep and drifted away into her heaven with devoted helpers by her side. I couldn't have done much other than add my voice and love for all those grieving the loss of such a brilliant and fascinating woman, but it seems to me right now that would have been a comfort. She was buried yesterday. There will be a memorial for her in a couple of weeks, apparently, and I'm trying to figure out if it would be okay for me to be there.

Too soon, too soon, too soon. She had so much to teach, so much to experience, so much to enjoy...and she never took it for granted, which is sadder yet. As always, we're reminded that our time is not guaranteed. You can't bet on 70 years or even 30. Be good to those you encounter, try to work out troubles as soon as you can, and let everyone you love know it as often as you can.

My heart hurts so much to know she's gone, knowing we'll never have one of those great talks again, knowing she'll never walk by my side ever again, we've had our last manicure together, we can't collude on potions anymore, I won't have her prose and essays to chew on and appreciate...and I never got those pictures. These things will have to be accepted and I'll have to get over feeling sad about them and wishing I'd known what led to the change in our connection a couple of months ago. The time we had is the time we had, and no amount of grief or regret will change it. I just need to hold those moments in my heart and appreciate them, remembering each time the world seems too hard that there is yet another person behind my eyes who would have given anything for one more day. She joins those to whom I dedicate each awakening. Another star in my sky.

The other thing I was worried about seems negligible in comparison - the norwescon essay contest started with no fanfare whatsoever, so I'll need to amend that today. I've got the entry already written and pictures taken, so it won't take long to fix it. But right now it's going to wait. I'm going to go make some tea and sit under the mulberry tree with marbles in my hand and think about what's been lost for a little bit.

I love you, Ivy. I'm so glad you are free of the pain, now, and that you reconnected with those you missed so much.

I've never called her that before, in writing or in person. She'd never introduced herself to me that way and seemed bothered when people used the name, but that might have been the way it was being used. So, I've always called her Ivy. At first I always said "Ivy Green", but she told me that wasn't necessary and I could save myself the syllable.

She's been like a distant big sister to me, as I've said before. From what I'm understanding, even if the next check gets here tomorrow, it might be too late to catch a plane and tell her all of this in person, and it may already be too late for someone else to tell her for me. I hope she stays for as long as she's comfortable, and my heart hurts to think that it may be before I can get up there.

Here's what she's taught me:
It's okay to feel that words matter, because they do.
Plastic is not good for human bodies to ingest or absorb.
She was also one of the first people to clue me in to soy's estrogen-binding properties, canola's GMO heritage, and the ubiquity of HFCS.
It's okay to experiment with more natural skin treatment even though the materials are kind of expensive because the results are worth it.
Original punks have the best stories.
Sometimes, you just need to make a little noise.
Crows make great friends.
Doctors need to be pushed to care, sometimes.
Linden blossoms make even the greyest day more tolerable.
Librarians are incredible conversationalists.
To quit obsessing about everything I'm not, can't be, or what other people are thinking and get on living life, because so many people would give anything to just have one more day where they could be fully themselves and enjoy the world.

...I could go on and on, but it all boils down to the fact that Heather taught me things I needed to learn from another woman, especially one who has explored life so thoroughly. I admire her and wish I could do anything at all to bring back her full health, because she should have more time to explore, more time to be loved and respected, and far less suffering.

Every ounce of nurturing comfort I'm capable of is trapped all these miles away, other than the mental flood of support and affection I've been pushing all day every day for months. Maybe it'll join the streams of hopes from all the others pulling for her to form a cushioning cloud of tenderness and healing. And a light heart. She so deserves a light heart.

Many times I've pictured her as a little girl, and wished we'd intersected paths earlier on. She has so much to teach, and her wit is irreplaceable. Makes me feel like she was a cool kid, and I wish I'd known her so she could have all the hugs she ever needed.

She's a beautiful woman, with deep pools of luminous knowledge in her eyes and dramatic bone structure. The few pictures I have of her before she got too shy show why I was always asking her if we could do a photo shoot. Her sense of style and willingness to experiment with fashion has always made her exciting to encounter out and about, because I always noticed something new and fabulous. Sharing a dancefloor with her made me feel wholly inadequate, but I stayed and danced because I felt inspired by her joy in movement.

Please, Universe, give us an opportunity to share a dancefloor once more. Or a manicure. Or tea. Or deep conversations around bonfires. Or anything, really. She's an amazing woman and our Earth will be poorer and less interesting at the moment she walks through the doorway of Infinity.

I love you, Heather, and I hope you know how much I treasure your presence in my life. I wish I could have been more useful to you while you've fought this war. I miss you so much and regret every time I missed an opportunity to be in your presence. Thank you for all of the encouragement, support, debate, inspiration, and, most especially, the openness you offered to so many of us when we needed it most. I still owe you a major debt for that alone.

Peace and strength, friend. That's what I'm sending you now. I wish I could deliver it in person.

Right now, there is a human being I considered a teacher close to the dark edge of the world.

Right now, there are people who have loved her going through one of the most heartbreaking turns our paths can take as we get through existence.

Oh, there are so many other people on that edge, so many other loved ones suffering, I know, I know, and my heart hurts for all of you. This moment, this one here, I want to be all about Ivy.

She's still here, as I understand it, and I want these words to penetrate the cloak of pain and physical surrender to let her know how deeply she impacted the world she is so passionate about. ( Ivy Green, you will always be sacred to me... )

For now, though, her spark still burns and I want it to burn as high and strong as it can, that she may absorb the regard, admiration, and tenderness so many feel for her.

I dropped the ball on many other birthday notes, I know, but this one is really important for a lot of reasons, so forgive me if I missed yours and you feel like this isn't fair.

vorona, I wish you a birthday that restores some measure of the awe and wonder you had stored up in you as you took your first breath. I wish you a birthday that magnifies that light in your heart to help you see all of the love around you as you fight. I wish you a birthday that spreads out beyond the anniversary of your arrival on the planet and pulls in all those who have appreciated you over the years in any capacity, so that the true value of your contribution to the world is felt resoundingly all the way through to your own heart. I wish you a birthday with peace and smiles and gentle treatment and just enough reality to keep it from getting annoying. I wish you a birthday that removes the dark filters that have gone up around you over the years so that your pure essence resonates for all to see, even as you fight for your very survival. I wish you a birthday that lets you reach back through all of the goodness in your life, so that you can choose to see that over all of the bad when things are hardest.

Above all, Ivy, I wish you a birthday that gives promise for more days to come.

(if someone who is still in contact w/ Ivy could pass that on to her, I would be very appreciative)

Our entire street is on lockdown. SWAT in full combat gear, a tank, cop cars flanking our block, news trucks, officers hunkered down in every yard and intersection...it's very intense out there.

According to KXAN's Twitter, a man accused of "dating violence" has barricaded himself in the apartment building across/down the street from us (3rd building down from the cross street).

They're being very quiet - so quiet that we had no idea they'd set up the barricade until Will saw that Twitter on his feed. He's tweeting whatever details he runs across there, if you're curious. (Bad, fuzzy) pics soon.

Pics.

We're adding as we can, but they've started firing tear gas (or similar) and the creep-up has started. Almost 10min ago, they sent a robot in to get positions, and they started creeping teams a couple of minutes ago. Hostage negotiator is out there, and captain makes momentary announcements to suspect that he needs to come out with hands up because they are Austin PD, not going away, and he is in a serious situation.

1:26pm update:
It looks like they didn't find anyone. They sent the dogs in after the gas (CN, from Will's guess; mouth and throat sting like they've had a sprinkling of cayenne, bad taste in mouth, eyes smart/water a bit) and they didn't seem to find anything. They took a laundry basket out but that's it. Current thought is the guy relocated, which would make the whole thing an advanced training mission.

I hope they catch up to him without a repeat of this whole thing. Interesting as it is, we're not in favour of kerfuffles.

Several months ago, I saw an interesting post pop up in synecdochic's journal announcing the intention to build something to take the place of LJ for all of the people who love the post/read format, customisation, tools, connectivity, privacy, and fun but don't like worrying what's happening to their data or if they'll suddenly get shut down in an appeal to not alienating advertisers. (whew)
( Why would I be interested in an LJ-killer? )

I could go on and on, of course, or I can give you this link: Dreamwidth Fact Sheet.
( Wait - Dreamwidth? What? )

So, yeah: Dreamwidth. Check it out, think it over, and I hope you'll join me over there to check it out (you can even leave comments without joining by using your LJ as authorisation through OpenID).

( * )

At 8:30pm tomorrow (3/28), we're going to "vote for Earth" by joining Earth Hour.

This simple gesture is completely powerless...because you turn off everything that doesn't have to be on - in our house, that means everything but the fridge - for an hour, starting at 8:30pm your time.

Pipe up if you're going to be joining in. I'd love to know who else is taking the plunge.

Seems like that lil zombie road sign prank has gone international. Now I feel silly for having blown off the opportunity to post Austin's own personal take on it earlier. Never fear - Ms. Bright Side is here! Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime to....AGGREGATE!

The original post on austincommunity - to get full effect, wait until image cycles through.

The omnibus post, same community.

How we would deal with a zombie invasion, same community. My answer's lame because I was working.

Metafilter also thought it was funny.

(click through the links at each one for various views of the signs & details regarding the prank)

Dear monkey gods, do NOT let "The Woz" beat out Dr. Carl Sagan as an über-nerd. Please, please, please vote for the REAL nerd in this match! (scroll down)

Home safe.

There is more to write up than I think I can do justice to, but here's a stab at it...

As y'all saw in the last entry, I'm now successfully divorced from N., which is probably going to be very welcome news to his long-time girlfriend. It was definitely welcome news over in this household. We were married twice as long as we were together. The longest blind date ever. And an amazing learning experience. I know a lot of people who are glad to be divorced are glad out of spite or anger or old feelings of betrayal. That's not the case for my feelings about our divorce, though. N. wasn't easy to live with, that's true. But, as many of you can probably imagine all too well, so am I. We each learned a lot about ourselves and what we really wanted from life. I think he's happier now, and I'm definitely not in as bad a headspace as I was when we were together.

He also gave me new things to appreciate about the world. I didn't know I liked doomy symphonic metal before he and I began corresponding, for one thing. And he liked comedians and artists I hadn't entertained before. And games I'd never played. Comics I'd ignored. Even food I'd left unexplored. We didn't mesh well, and we couldn't help each other through our challenges as well as we'd hoped we'd be able to, but we did genuinely care for each other, and that's what ultimately led to the divorce decision. I wanted him to have a happy life, enjoy experiences he'd sacrificed to see if he was really ready to settle down with a crazy ol' hedgewitch like me, realise his true potential. Though it was hard to do at the time, I think we made the right decision and will end up with richer and happier lives for the experience and the decision to end the marriage portion.

We didn't have a real wedding or anything - we kneeled over a coffee table in front of a futon in a room lit by partially collapsed fairy lights, the officiant was my evil twin, and the witness would one day become a friend of ours...but at the time was just a conveniently willing pair of eyes. We had Chinese food in Bellevue afterward, had a housewarming party a couple of weeks later, and then ended all the excitement by burying my grandfather...who hadn't known we were married when he died. We should have considered that an omen, maybe. Anyway. It wasn't all bad, is what I'm saying. We had some great times and learned a lot. I'm hoping the rest of ninnanuam's life is ten times as happy as the best moment of our time together.

Thanks, Nathan. I couldn't have picked a better guy to divorce.

( The Final Milestones )

Sorry for the lack of typing for the past several days...my wrist has been playing silly buggers again, so I'm trying to keep it rested as much as possible.

But this is too good to resist sharing, so I'm braving it:

We're DIVORCED!

I've also had my name restored. No more hyphens and name confusion and all that rot!

ninnanuam, your copy of the decree and a bunch of other stuff will be in the mail on 1/5. I'll get a tracking # and send it to you, even, since that seems to help nullify the mail curse.

When I think of all the beautiful things in my life I've destroyed unknowingly, especially those destroyed in the clumsiness of my twisted good intentions, it makes me irredeemably sad.

If only I could just fix it all.

I'm sorry.

Dear President Barack Obama,

Please help us fulfill the hopes that inspired our choice.

Thank you,
The Citizens of the United States of America

Engaged in slowly dissecting comments from a few entries ago, so I'm definitely labouring faithfully on replying to those in an intelligent fashion.

While I'm busy with that, I'd like to encourage those of you in or near Seattle to head out to Wayward Coffee House on Halloween (yep, ON Halloween - consider it a prelude to whatever other mayhem you're up to that night, or a quieter alternative if you've been trying to figure out what to do) for a horror reading par excellence:



Regardless of proximity to Sea-town & H'ween plans, I've got an article for you: Why humans are so quick to take offense. It tries to frame itself towards the upcoming US election, but it's a fantastically fair and scientific examination of our inclination toward social cooperation and the forces that twist it.

Today at approximately 3:15 PM, Baltasar went to sleep one last time and was freed from the pain of lymphomic cancer.

He went peacefully after a final grump session, seeming to realise that it was now time to quit hurting. He made sure to let me give him kisses one more time and snuggled against me before being asked to lay down. He looked to Will and closed his eyes happily as his hand joined mine on that now-ragged silver coat. We pet him and gave him sweet words until he had faded. It was very quick. He will be cremated and returned to us, and we'll be procuring an appropriate container for the remainder of his physical form. We sent his "receiving blanket" and little white bunny with him, so that he would have familiarity as he left.

I'm not quite up to telling his whole story right now, but I will. He deserves it. He made me a better person, calmed me down, taught me how to be the pet guardian I should be by enduring all of my flubs and failures stoically and with never-ending love. I always wanted to do better by him.

Rest in Peace, Baltasar - 9/21/96-9/15/08; may your energy go on to reap the rewards of a life well lived, hopefully allowing you to finally eat whatever you want. You weren't just a good boy, you were the best boy.

Back when the Mercury still smelled a bit like fresh paint, there was a sudden flurry of interest in the arrival of a well-traveled gent who went by "Thog". He wrote about his travels in classic gonzo style, making even a description of an overly warm motorcycle seat a compelling read. I'll be honest: I was intimidated by Duri a little, but found him too compelling to stay too far away. I loved his writing and the crystalline humour with which he presented his adventures. Over the years, I encountered him enough to learn that he was actually Duri, not "Thog", and he was more than worthy of even the most intense fascination.

He came to be quite well known for his exuberant, thrash-it-out dance style, and that's where we first intersected in person, and where the bulk of my meaningful time in his presence was spent. As intimidating as he was to me socially, he was a perfect protector on the dance floor. Being almost two feet shorter than him and as fond of the part of the floor by the pole as he was, he provided an incomparable force field from those who were less accomplished at sharing tiny dance floors with others. More than once I found myself rescued from the over-eager and under-socialised by his whirling arms and stomping legs.

Aside from that, he was an enigma to me, and my inability to get over being intimidated kept it that way, meaning I mostly shared small talk (and the occasional wolfish smile while dancing) with him for most of the years he was more regularly in Seattle. When William and I became involved, I had the opportunity to visit with Duri more meaingfully a couple of times and learned he was yet another member of the Abused Kids Club. No, I guess I probably shouldn't say that "out loud", but I think it's relevant to the rest of this.

What I learned of Duri through those visits and his conversations with Will made me deeply sad I'd not had the courage to know him better before he went on his last few adventures. He was determined to have a different life from what his beginnings had promised him. He was erudite, principled, and loyal. And, yes, tormented. His attempts at making the life he wanted to have ran into incredible obstacles that sounded like they were from summer movies (improbable and huge and bombastic), stacking on top of his past.

Another admission: his lack of obfuscation when it came to what he thought of other people was surprising to me. He was diplomatic, but he didn't care for hypocrites or sycophants, and he was made uncomfortable by inclusion in groups he felt didn't live up to even their own standards, much less those of human decency. I also unexpectedly learned he enjoyed making light of people who attempted ingratiating themselves to him or riding his coattails into the "Cool Kids club" (an affiliation he eventually became discomfited by). He thought of them as the adult forms of the bullies and snivelers he'd found distasteful even in childhood, and had little patience for their machinations. I guess I'd thought his size, demeanour, and "cool factor" allowed him to move between the lines without care or concern. That he did care and did have concerns was what surprised me, showing again how my assumptions lead to terrible underestimations.

Thinking of all that I knew about him and those few times we shared words, I don't feel comfortable talking about why his liver failed nor the conversations william and I had about his growing health issues. I do feel comfortable, however, saying that he was a better person than his end would have some think, that he deserved so much more from life than what he got, and that I can't stop considering this knot of anger in my heart for how helpless he felt in mastering his compulsions. Not at him, although I guess that's probably natural, considering. No, I'm angry at the people who filled him up with the programming which made those compulsions so strong they eventually took his health (and life) away. Such a terrible waste of a brilliant, talented, valuable human being.

Duri, now that you've been freed from that shell, I hope the sting of your beginning can fade. You will always be in my heart and mind as an inspiration and reason to keep looking on the bright side as much as possible. If the events after death work the way I hope they do, your energy will go on to another purpose, perhaps even filling another shell with your bright spark. May whatever happens next be more peaceful and nurturing. Most importantly, may those left behind take comfort in the good you contributed while you were here with us, and take into their hearts the lessons of your too early demise. Be at peace, Duri, and know you were cared about by many.

Do you have goods, services, projects, or artistic endeavours you think the members of Norwescon would like to know about, could find useful, or be the perfect audience for?

Whether it's jewelry, art, hats, a weekly stand-up gig, a CD, baby-sitting service, tailor/seamstress, costume design, resume writing, pet-sitting, wedding officiant services, random crafts, piano recital, personal chef business, or even an actual brick & mortar store - whatever you can conscientiously offer to other people as a product or service - I'm interested.

I'm putting together a special "support your community" entry and I want you and what you do to be part of it IF available at times other than at con. That'll be a different post. You do not need to be a member of norwescon nor even an attendee of the con itself. If your item requires an in-person element, keep in mind that it needs to be accessible to those in the PNW.

I need to know the following, so fill in the template and post to comments (screened): ( Promotion Template )

Deadline: 5/18 - I want to get this out ASAP!

Feel free to pass this on* to other folks who may have something to offer. Your journal is a great way to spread the message and help your friends & community thrive. This is politics-free - anyone and everyone who has something appropriate is welcome.

*Just make sure to re-direct them to norwescon to fill out the template, because I'd lose track, otherwise!

x-posted to norwescon

( Royale with Cheese Personality Meme )

* While not entirely accurate, I like it as a disclaimer. Warning: life containing G. Batmonkey may include non-optimum outcomes despite her very great wish for it to be otherwise.

I don't care if you read what I write. I don't care if you don't think about me. I don't care what you do think about me. I don't care if you haven't called or written in a long, long while. I don't care what position I'm in on the various social networks we may be connected by. I don't care if our mutual admiration society has broken up. I don't care if you don't agree with me. I don't care if we never agree on anything again. I don't care about whatever makes you better than me. I don't care about silly snap judgments or stubborn feuds. I don't care if we never catch up to each other. I don't care if my advice doesn't work for you. I don't care if yours doesn't work for me. I don't care that you don't care.

I just want you to know that I don't care about any of that.

I only care that you're out there and we interacted positively at some point and I learned some part of your story and whatever lessons I've received from you. No matter what our association was or is, no matter who has shared more credit or more blame, no matter what I got wrong or right or halfway there but not quite, that's really all I care about.

Thanks for being there and having been there, for whatever span of time we have shared space peacefully. For the laughter and tears and tentative hugs and even the occasional cold, angry look. For your imperfections co-existing with mine, regardless of outcome.

Maybe we're still thick as honey, maybe our connection shattered. I still hold all the safe feelings, all the fun, all the moments of being taken seriously, all of the help, and even all of the criticism right here in my heart. It's a comfort. Occasionally bittersweet, but then one appreciates the sweet notes more. We may never fight by each other's sides (again or ever), but I'm grateful you have been there when you were.

Remember that time when I was all happiness and smiles because...there you were? That's what I'm going to remember about you. That at some point you helped me feel joy, and it was simply because you were there when you were. Online or off, it's the same. And while I hope I have provided some sort of friendly joy to you, I can't be sure of it in all cases, so I'll not assume. I wish I could be sure, as that would go far in enriching this existence.

No one knows how much time they have in this world, and we all face challenges in finding and keeping the way. In that light, knowing life could stretch on or blink out after I close my eyes tonight and that I could face a million battles in between now and that moment, I thank you for being on this planet with me.

Whatever you believe or don't believe, you can trust that I have only had good intentions which sometimes went awry. If you were one of those affected by the more difficult transitions, regardless of our current situation with each other, know that I regret not having taken a better path at those moments. My disappointment in myself for any failures is what keeps me growing and striving and exploring. I hope it's the same for you.