This is going to be the typical “LJ Catchup” post in which I complain that I have not updated this thing with content of any great depth for a very long time.
First off, I have had a few Perplex City puzzle cards published. They are:
Other than saying that yes, they are out there and available in the recent card packs, I won’t be commenting any further. For all those that Googled my name, found this blog, and are scouring it for clues: first off, welcome. Second, you won’t find any clues because there aren’t any. This is a personal blog and not part of a larger game or puzzle. I do hope you enjoy those cards (and the hundreds of other cards from various other authors.)
On a related note, which might be slightly spoilerish, I got this heartwarming email from an Unfiction user:
Hi I just received the card you designed. Thanks for a great card! My daughter whose 12 who’s angst ridden in a sea of pink and American Idol gave me a hand with the card and knew how to fold it right away and for a few seconds dad’s “dorky card game” wasn’t. Thanks again it was a nice few seconds together.
In other news, I had a great massage session two weekends ago. Nicole showed me a great trick to do with tennis balls (get your mind out of the gutter!) Mainly, when you are on a hard surface (like the floor), you can lie on your back with a tennis ball under you. Moving around to roll it into just the right position can help press on the right parts of muscles to help them relax a bit. I have another appointment this weekend and will probably continue to keep an every-two-week standing appointment for the foreseeable future. Massage in combination with weekly yoga, while I like to complain, is doing some great stuff for my body. I have also thrown Workrave, a program that monitors how you use the computer, into the mix to help prevent body issues from Repetitive Strain Injury.
Did I mention how cathartic I find it to pull the metal pull-top from a tube of tennis balls and get that vacu-sealed whoosh of dry air? It’s almost as good as the paper shredder.
Kim and I have been some pretty big sloths in the past few weeks. Since getting the Buffy The Vampire Slayer boxed set, we have been watching episodes most every night after work and quite a lot on the weekends, too. Right now, I believe we are up to mid-season-4.
We did take a minor break to watch the recently Netflix’ed American Bellydancer. While probably not for everyone, this was a great documentary that looked behind the scenes to the roots of the Bellydance Superstars show (that we recently saw in person.) It was started back in the day by Miles Copeland (manager of The Police and brother of the drummer) just before Lollapoluza (or however you spell it), which was their big US debut. Miles is simultaneously strong and driven (sometimes to the point of being a jerk) and fun and whimsical. We saw the whimsical side at the show (he swept up the stage between acts and was bantering with people while selling programs out in the lobby.) The documentary really showed the other side of him. It also showed off the women and their skill. Bellydancing is the only dance art that was originally created by women for women with no involvement from men (although it turned out that men like to watch, too.) While bellydancing itself is for women of all shapes and sizes, the Bellydance Superstars show itself admittedly focuses on “hot” women with world-class bellydance skills to sell tickets to an American audience. The documentary showed some pretty heated debates between Miles (who was often times more for the look) and the choreographer (who wanted the skills.)
Speaking of performances, we got to see Cirque du Soleil last Saturday. I have not seen them since Vegas, many, many years ago. It was fun and exciting. There were lizard men. There were little wee folk swinging that climbed out of some guy’s backpack and started swinging around poi (the balls on string, not the taro root.) There was an Uncle Fester lookin’ weirdo with a lightbulb hat. There was a funny little satyr guy. And there was a whole lot of French. I understood exactly two words–“sorry” and “nincompoop”–but, as expected, you did not need to understand the language.
I started putting together another Adagio order, but after realizing I had almost $100 worth of tea in the shopping cart, I had to take a step back and reconsider what I really wanted to order. At this point, I am not sure. My first order was all samplers and now I want full packages of a few of those. I also want to sample some other individual tea flavors. Additionally, I would like to try the black tea sampler because I previously did not like black teas, but have only had cheap teabag black teas. It would be nice to try some higher quality black tea before condemning the whole lot of them. So anyway, I keep looking at the order every day or so, trying to trim things out, and wondering if I should just wait until payday and take the plunge–although I should probably trim it down to just a few samples and a single full-size flavor.
Last night, Kim made some wonderiffic stuffed peppers and cabbage salad. Sophie came to dinner and retold her crazy New Orleans experiences over yummy fresh mint lemonade. (As an aside, she was one of the big factors in Kim and I meeting what seems like oh-so-long ago, but has really only been 2 years.)
Okay, so that just about covers everything since the last substantial update.