And to continue the quiz theme...


I am 45% British, just like
Catherine Zeta Jones
A true English rose, but you know where the money is.

Take the Brit Quiz at
www.darrenlondon.tripod.com/britquiz1.htm
Quiz written by Daz

You are Civilian Calvin! You don't get to travel much outside your neighborhood, but you still manage to get in plenty of trouble. When you're not acting up, you like to wax philosophical. Take the What Calvin are You? Quiz by contessina_2000@yahoo.com!

Happy Thanksgiving! My turkey is nearly done, and an assortment of side dishes awaits their turn in the oven.

Seems funny to do all this for just me and Rob, but then again I'll have cherubs over the weekend and this way I won't have to cook :)

Plus I do like my turkey leftovers. I remember when I was small, my mom would slice all the meat off the carcass and store it in an aluminum cake pan that had a lid which you slid back and forth to open and shut. She'd flatten all the meat into this pan, then make soup from the turkey bones ( I vaguely recall we weren't allowed to chew on our drumsticks because she snatched those bones off our plates to add to the stockpot). In the middle of the night, when she'd come home from work, I'd be waiting up for her. We'd slide open the pan of turkey and put out little dipping bowls of mayonaise and eat.

I've made soup from the turkey bones before. We make a Korean soup called chook (sometimes spelled jook) from it. Basically, boil the bones with some onions, salt and pepper to make a nice broth and then add in lots of rice, plus whatever scraps of meat fall from the bones. We sometimes mixed in soy sauce, kim chee slices or other little things to change it, but essentially that's all it was. Filling, warm and homey.

I might make a pot of soup this year. Rob'll be in Virginia for the next week, taking care of his mother's estate. It'll be nice to come in from school and simply heat up a cup of something warm and cozy while I wait for him to come home.

A kind of funny story.

Last year when Rob and I visited Suz and Broos, I found that neither of them indulges in a morning cuppa joe and so they don't keep any on hand. When I went down last week, I meant to bring some instant ; even got as far as mulling over packing my French press but of course I forgot to pack anything. Wednesday morning as I puttered around the pantry rearranging things to make life difficult for Broos (smirk), I found a box of little International coffees in individual packets. "How sweet of them to have this for me!" I thought, locating a coffee mug (which, oddly enough, the cupboard included a coffee mug with the mug of Vern -- at least I think it's Vern -- on it and for some reason, I just could not envision myself enjoying my morning coffee with Vern on the label), microwaving water and sitting down with Suz's photo collage in the living room.

An hour or so later, Broos stumbles out of bed and wanders into the kitchen and I thank him for having coffee on hand. He blinks and ponders.

"You know, I don't remember us having any. If it's there, I'll bet Suz brought it from Missouri."

Well, the coffee tasted fine so I figured he was mistaken. When I went back to make another cup, I found a coupon in the box. It expired December 31, 1997. Aieeeee!

The other night Rob and I were watching a James Bond movie. I forget which one (they're all the same, basically), but it had Pierce Brosnan as 007. I remember when NBC wouldn't allow him out of his Remington Steele contract the first time the Bond folks wanted him as their man; Timothy Dalton was such a poor substitute, and as it happens Remingston Steele lasted only another season anyway.

During the opening credits, I recognized the name of one of the other actors.

"Oooh! It's Sean Bean!" I exclaimed. Rob looked blank. "You know, he's in Lord of the Rings: he's Boromir!"

And then I heard the words no wife should ever hear her own husband say.

"Er...which one's Boromir again?"

Last Christmas I got Rob a leatherbound edition of Lord of the Rings to replace his paperbacks, which are falling apart. I used to have two copies in paperback, but sent one set to one of my GMs whose own copies were ruined when his house was flooded. Mine are kind of tattered, a testament to the many, many hours reading and rereading. I'm not the sort of person who can quote whole passages, but I have a good grasp of the story. And so, to hear my husband ask such a question and see his brow furrowed in concentration over something that should be so instinctive...well, it was painful. ;)

I cannot wait for the next movie, The Two Towers, to come out. Sometimes watching the trailer for it, I feel choked up with emotions -- happiness, joy, poignancy (for we all know how it turns out), anticipation. How lucky, I think, that we live in a world where such a thing exists...this book, the breathtaking movies, the wonderful scenery. There is such a richness in the films and depth, a respect for the source...I'm amazed and delighted and overwhelmed. I am sure Peter Jackson has done another good job. It wil be nice to visit another world for a few hours.

Cheese Racing. Er, yes. Yes, it is.

The memory booklet we put together for Suz's family from the game message boards, for those who wanted to look at it in color. The only difference between this version and the print one is that I removed email addresses so that evil websurfer bots trying to get more places to dump their spam will not find anything here! Hah!

Hmm. I mulled over switching to blogspot from Netscape to make reading easier for Broos, but I may have accidentally messed everything up. Now I'm not sure my posts are going to end up anywhere. ::flail::

Friday I did absolutely nothing useful, other than get a mammogram. Instead of doing my homework, I played mindless little games all day. I drifted in and out of Suz's journal all day, feeling blue and sad and disconnected. Nothing mattered on Friday, nothing bothered me nor did anything please me. Rob came home and wanted to get dinner, so we went to Outback.

Several years ago when my co-worker Michelle died, all I wanted to do was eat beef. I had to have red meat, which is generally unlike me. For some reason, I equated beef with a sense of being alive. A friend of mine commented that she too went through a period of unusual mourning where she wanted to connect with life in some way (although she put it: "I wanted to have sex everywhere: in the living room, in the dining room, on top of the refrigerator.").

Now, I don't feel like anything in particular will make me feel lively. I wonder if part of it is sadness about Suz, irritation with my exhusband, worry about unemployment, or my concern about my own medical deal. Today I'm sitting here and my insides are jabbing at me, but I'm not sure if they've always jabbed at me or if I'm noticing because I'm worried about my insides, or if I'm imagining things because I'm worried about my insides. It could just be ovulation.

Anyway, I'm feeling rather dull. I have to write an outline for English (which is rather odd since we've already turned in the draft; correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't it make more sense to outline first, then draft?), a paper for family law and lots of homework for astronomy. But I open the books and end up staring at them and then drifting away. It reminds me of "The Subtle Knife" wherein the Specters absorb the energies and interests of their victims, leaving them emotionally empty physical shells.

Today is much better than Friday, though. And I suspect each day will get a little bit better than the one before.

Select a Cat that's perfect for you.

Thank you for being such a good host, Broos.

The service had many comforting elements, especially Bruce's reading of Desiderata. And it was so, so good to be with friends, to be in Suz's home and sit on her couch, looking at the things that she enjoyed among others who love her. Kind of like being wrapped in a nice, warm shawl on a cold night.

Broos, it was good too to hear some of your razorsharp wit, even if directed at me. :P For example, several of us we went to dinner Tuesday night and as we'd arrived at the restaurant early, Broos, me, Suz's sister Cathy and her husband Fred walked along the waterfront, looking for seals.

There was an elevated patch of flat, sandy-colored rocks on the shore and I said, "If I were a seal, I'd be up here where it's flat...come out of the water, floom floom floom, and just lie out."
Broos: "How do seals come out of the water?"
Cathy and Fred (in unison): "floom floom floom." Comment: they have obviously worked as a team with him before to take down unsuspecting prey.

Much school and other work to catch up on. Mammogram tomorrow. Next week, more tests.

I wish I had a working scanner.

Cards seem so impersonal. My boss used to send me out to buy sympathy cards for him, which is a difficult task as you don't really know how the person sending the card feels, or how religious the family is, or anything else. I didn't plan on getting a card for Suz's family; I don't know them other than what passed through Suz's journal.

But then I saw a pretty blue card with little golden butterflies floating upwards, becoming stars. It reminded me of Suz's butterfly charm script, so I looked closer. The sentiment seemed perfect: "Imagine the beauty of it -- that moment when the soul of a loved one returns to the stars, the voices each whispering I remember you."

Tonight (actually, very early in the morning for us West Coasters) is the Leonid meteor shower and it promises to be spectacular. The wonderful, compassionate, caring Suz Dodd's soul is being welcomed in a big way.

Fellowship of the Peep.

Thanks, Steph. I needed a good nose-snorting laugh today.

I've spent the last two days just sort of numb, thinking so much about Suz and how much she means to me. It's not only that she got me and Rob interested in each other, although that's a big part. It's not that she took me over to the little game and then let me grow up there to slip into her job title when she moved on. It's not just me.

A lot of it is how she nurtured and encouraged everyone. I read what everyone says about her, and one thing Steph said on the bulletin board is so true: this is someone about whom all the expressions of admiration are true. Suz really did make everyone's lives brighter. She really did have the capacity to love and hug and touch all of our lives, leaving us with some of our fondest memories. When folks got inflamed, she was soothing. And yet it's not like she didn't have a temper, or was so saintly she never got mad. But she always came back with such warmth and forgiveness and love. When I say I want to grow up to be like her, that's what I mean. I want to be able to inspire warmth this way. It's a struggle for me, I'm so rebellious; but maybe someday...

Her voice was so beautiful too. When I first heard her speak, I thought, "Wow, this is what a 'melodious voice' sounds like." She could've read me the phone book and it would've been a relaxing experience. I'm sorry I didn't call her more often just to hear her speak. I don't like talking on the phone and do most of my work by email. On the bright side, I have many of her emails that I can read over and in my mind, hear her reading them to me.

Yesterday was a blur of class, scheduling flights, emails with other cohorts who are planning to go to San Diego for the memorial. I got home from my last class at nearly 8PM, which is much later than usual. Not long after I walked in the door, the phone rang. It was my doctor, which immediately caused concern; I know doctors don't call their patients to say hi and I'd had my annual exam just last week. "You have an abnormal pap smear," she said, "Please make an appointment right away with a gynecologist." This is my second abnormal test in two years.

And here all I thought I had to worry about is my first mammogram, scheduled for next week. This fortieth birthday year is really suckwad.

Cosmic Twin. Thank you for everything.

Yesterday was semi-relaxing. After finishing most of my astronomy homework, I went over to Jean's house for lunch. We had a great time, chatting, playing yahtzee and visiting her horse Bingo at his barn. Then I came home and finished up explaining the structure of the universe. All in a day's work.

This morning, bright and early, I had a job interview with the Department of Corrections for a senior office assistant position. The office is small and stuck in the early 70's as far as decor; the job is not at a prison but a location where probation officers meet with their clients. Hmm. I'm not sure I want to be in that sort of spotlight (the office assistants are the only visible staffers behind the counter; the probation officers themselves sit in offices tucked away in the back -- where they're safe). Gulp.

We're in the last month of school and it has been very harsh this quarter. I don't think I'm going to take four classes at one time again.

Steph has completed the transmogrification of our website. Go, Steph! Now we sit and wait and see, and hopefully will not give anyone else an aneurism before everything is done.

Your Mooville-related legal briefing for the day:

"A woman is not a breeding cow to be nurtured during her years of fecundity, then conveniently and economically converted to cheap steaks when past her prime."

BRANTNER v. BRANTNER, 67 Cal. App. 3d 416 (1977 )

And to continue the quiz theme...


I am 45% British, just like
Catherine Zeta Jones
A true English rose, but you know where the money is.

Take the Brit Quiz at
www.darrenlondon.tripod.com/britquiz1.htm
Quiz written by Daz

You are Civilian Calvin! You don't get to travel much outside your neighborhood, but you still manage to get in plenty of trouble. When you're not acting up, you like to wax philosophical. Take the What Calvin are You? Quiz by contessina_2000@yahoo.com!

Happy Thanksgiving! My turkey is nearly done, and an assortment of side dishes awaits their turn in the oven.

Seems funny to do all this for just me and Rob, but then again I'll have cherubs over the weekend and this way I won't have to cook :)

Plus I do like my turkey leftovers. I remember when I was small, my mom would slice all the meat off the carcass and store it in an aluminum cake pan that had a lid which you slid back and forth to open and shut. She'd flatten all the meat into this pan, then make soup from the turkey bones ( I vaguely recall we weren't allowed to chew on our drumsticks because she snatched those bones off our plates to add to the stockpot). In the middle of the night, when she'd come home from work, I'd be waiting up for her. We'd slide open the pan of turkey and put out little dipping bowls of mayonaise and eat.

I've made soup from the turkey bones before. We make a Korean soup called chook (sometimes spelled jook) from it. Basically, boil the bones with some onions, salt and pepper to make a nice broth and then add in lots of rice, plus whatever scraps of meat fall from the bones. We sometimes mixed in soy sauce, kim chee slices or other little things to change it, but essentially that's all it was. Filling, warm and homey.

I might make a pot of soup this year. Rob'll be in Virginia for the next week, taking care of his mother's estate. It'll be nice to come in from school and simply heat up a cup of something warm and cozy while I wait for him to come home.

A kind of funny story.

Last year when Rob and I visited Suz and Broos, I found that neither of them indulges in a morning cuppa joe and so they don't keep any on hand. When I went down last week, I meant to bring some instant ; even got as far as mulling over packing my French press but of course I forgot to pack anything. Wednesday morning as I puttered around the pantry rearranging things to make life difficult for Broos (smirk), I found a box of little International coffees in individual packets. "How sweet of them to have this for me!" I thought, locating a coffee mug (which, oddly enough, the cupboard included a coffee mug with the mug of Vern -- at least I think it's Vern -- on it and for some reason, I just could not envision myself enjoying my morning coffee with Vern on the label), microwaving water and sitting down with Suz's photo collage in the living room.

An hour or so later, Broos stumbles out of bed and wanders into the kitchen and I thank him for having coffee on hand. He blinks and ponders.

"You know, I don't remember us having any. If it's there, I'll bet Suz brought it from Missouri."

Well, the coffee tasted fine so I figured he was mistaken. When I went back to make another cup, I found a coupon in the box. It expired December 31, 1997. Aieeeee!

The other night Rob and I were watching a James Bond movie. I forget which one (they're all the same, basically), but it had Pierce Brosnan as 007. I remember when NBC wouldn't allow him out of his Remington Steele contract the first time the Bond folks wanted him as their man; Timothy Dalton was such a poor substitute, and as it happens Remingston Steele lasted only another season anyway.

During the opening credits, I recognized the name of one of the other actors.

"Oooh! It's Sean Bean!" I exclaimed. Rob looked blank. "You know, he's in Lord of the Rings: he's Boromir!"

And then I heard the words no wife should ever hear her own husband say.

"Er...which one's Boromir again?"

Last Christmas I got Rob a leatherbound edition of Lord of the Rings to replace his paperbacks, which are falling apart. I used to have two copies in paperback, but sent one set to one of my GMs whose own copies were ruined when his house was flooded. Mine are kind of tattered, a testament to the many, many hours reading and rereading. I'm not the sort of person who can quote whole passages, but I have a good grasp of the story. And so, to hear my husband ask such a question and see his brow furrowed in concentration over something that should be so instinctive...well, it was painful. ;)

I cannot wait for the next movie, The Two Towers, to come out. Sometimes watching the trailer for it, I feel choked up with emotions -- happiness, joy, poignancy (for we all know how it turns out), anticipation. How lucky, I think, that we live in a world where such a thing exists...this book, the breathtaking movies, the wonderful scenery. There is such a richness in the films and depth, a respect for the source...I'm amazed and delighted and overwhelmed. I am sure Peter Jackson has done another good job. It wil be nice to visit another world for a few hours.

Cheese Racing. Er, yes. Yes, it is.

The memory booklet we put together for Suz's family from the game message boards, for those who wanted to look at it in color. The only difference between this version and the print one is that I removed email addresses so that evil websurfer bots trying to get more places to dump their spam will not find anything here! Hah!

Hmm. I mulled over switching to blogspot from Netscape to make reading easier for Broos, but I may have accidentally messed everything up. Now I'm not sure my posts are going to end up anywhere. ::flail::

Friday I did absolutely nothing useful, other than get a mammogram. Instead of doing my homework, I played mindless little games all day. I drifted in and out of Suz's journal all day, feeling blue and sad and disconnected. Nothing mattered on Friday, nothing bothered me nor did anything please me. Rob came home and wanted to get dinner, so we went to Outback.

Several years ago when my co-worker Michelle died, all I wanted to do was eat beef. I had to have red meat, which is generally unlike me. For some reason, I equated beef with a sense of being alive. A friend of mine commented that she too went through a period of unusual mourning where she wanted to connect with life in some way (although she put it: "I wanted to have sex everywhere: in the living room, in the dining room, on top of the refrigerator.").

Now, I don't feel like anything in particular will make me feel lively. I wonder if part of it is sadness about Suz, irritation with my exhusband, worry about unemployment, or my concern about my own medical deal. Today I'm sitting here and my insides are jabbing at me, but I'm not sure if they've always jabbed at me or if I'm noticing because I'm worried about my insides, or if I'm imagining things because I'm worried about my insides. It could just be ovulation.

Anyway, I'm feeling rather dull. I have to write an outline for English (which is rather odd since we've already turned in the draft; correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't it make more sense to outline first, then draft?), a paper for family law and lots of homework for astronomy. But I open the books and end up staring at them and then drifting away. It reminds me of "The Subtle Knife" wherein the Specters absorb the energies and interests of their victims, leaving them emotionally empty physical shells.

Today is much better than Friday, though. And I suspect each day will get a little bit better than the one before.

Select a Cat that's perfect for you.

Thank you for being such a good host, Broos.

The service had many comforting elements, especially Bruce's reading of Desiderata. And it was so, so good to be with friends, to be in Suz's home and sit on her couch, looking at the things that she enjoyed among others who love her. Kind of like being wrapped in a nice, warm shawl on a cold night.

Broos, it was good too to hear some of your razorsharp wit, even if directed at me. :P For example, several of us we went to dinner Tuesday night and as we'd arrived at the restaurant early, Broos, me, Suz's sister Cathy and her husband Fred walked along the waterfront, looking for seals.

There was an elevated patch of flat, sandy-colored rocks on the shore and I said, "If I were a seal, I'd be up here where it's flat...come out of the water, floom floom floom, and just lie out."
Broos: "How do seals come out of the water?"
Cathy and Fred (in unison): "floom floom floom." Comment: they have obviously worked as a team with him before to take down unsuspecting prey.

Much school and other work to catch up on. Mammogram tomorrow. Next week, more tests.

I wish I had a working scanner.

Cards seem so impersonal. My boss used to send me out to buy sympathy cards for him, which is a difficult task as you don't really know how the person sending the card feels, or how religious the family is, or anything else. I didn't plan on getting a card for Suz's family; I don't know them other than what passed through Suz's journal.

But then I saw a pretty blue card with little golden butterflies floating upwards, becoming stars. It reminded me of Suz's butterfly charm script, so I looked closer. The sentiment seemed perfect: "Imagine the beauty of it -- that moment when the soul of a loved one returns to the stars, the voices each whispering I remember you."

Tonight (actually, very early in the morning for us West Coasters) is the Leonid meteor shower and it promises to be spectacular. The wonderful, compassionate, caring Suz Dodd's soul is being welcomed in a big way.

Fellowship of the Peep.

Thanks, Steph. I needed a good nose-snorting laugh today.

I've spent the last two days just sort of numb, thinking so much about Suz and how much she means to me. It's not only that she got me and Rob interested in each other, although that's a big part. It's not that she took me over to the little game and then let me grow up there to slip into her job title when she moved on. It's not just me.

A lot of it is how she nurtured and encouraged everyone. I read what everyone says about her, and one thing Steph said on the bulletin board is so true: this is someone about whom all the expressions of admiration are true. Suz really did make everyone's lives brighter. She really did have the capacity to love and hug and touch all of our lives, leaving us with some of our fondest memories. When folks got inflamed, she was soothing. And yet it's not like she didn't have a temper, or was so saintly she never got mad. But she always came back with such warmth and forgiveness and love. When I say I want to grow up to be like her, that's what I mean. I want to be able to inspire warmth this way. It's a struggle for me, I'm so rebellious; but maybe someday...

Her voice was so beautiful too. When I first heard her speak, I thought, "Wow, this is what a 'melodious voice' sounds like." She could've read me the phone book and it would've been a relaxing experience. I'm sorry I didn't call her more often just to hear her speak. I don't like talking on the phone and do most of my work by email. On the bright side, I have many of her emails that I can read over and in my mind, hear her reading them to me.

Yesterday was a blur of class, scheduling flights, emails with other cohorts who are planning to go to San Diego for the memorial. I got home from my last class at nearly 8PM, which is much later than usual. Not long after I walked in the door, the phone rang. It was my doctor, which immediately caused concern; I know doctors don't call their patients to say hi and I'd had my annual exam just last week. "You have an abnormal pap smear," she said, "Please make an appointment right away with a gynecologist." This is my second abnormal test in two years.

And here all I thought I had to worry about is my first mammogram, scheduled for next week. This fortieth birthday year is really suckwad.

Cosmic Twin. Thank you for everything.

Yesterday was semi-relaxing. After finishing most of my astronomy homework, I went over to Jean's house for lunch. We had a great time, chatting, playing yahtzee and visiting her horse Bingo at his barn. Then I came home and finished up explaining the structure of the universe. All in a day's work.

This morning, bright and early, I had a job interview with the Department of Corrections for a senior office assistant position. The office is small and stuck in the early 70's as far as decor; the job is not at a prison but a location where probation officers meet with their clients. Hmm. I'm not sure I want to be in that sort of spotlight (the office assistants are the only visible staffers behind the counter; the probation officers themselves sit in offices tucked away in the back -- where they're safe). Gulp.

We're in the last month of school and it has been very harsh this quarter. I don't think I'm going to take four classes at one time again.

Steph has completed the transmogrification of our website. Go, Steph! Now we sit and wait and see, and hopefully will not give anyone else an aneurism before everything is done.

Your Mooville-related legal briefing for the day:

"A woman is not a breeding cow to be nurtured during her years of fecundity, then conveniently and economically converted to cheap steaks when past her prime."

BRANTNER v. BRANTNER, 67 Cal. App. 3d 416 (1977 )