Ravers: now with more Benny Hill. Just watch it.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Long, slow climb...
I finished the antibiotics on Monday. I'd love to tell you that I'm now completely recovered, but as most of you probably know, that isn't really the way it works. What I am, right now, is Not Sick Anymore. And believe me, that's great as far as it goes.
"Fully recovered" is another matter altogether, and I'm not there yet. I'm still wearing out; I have no reserves. I fell asleep on Secondborn's bed last night while the boys were playing games and I was trying to read. So, basically, I passed out with the lights on, and only woke up because the boys got into a minor tiff right outside the doorway. And even with an early evening nap, I was still back in bed by ten o'clock.
I'm not sick anymore. I'm just tired.
So, more music - this time I think I'll put it below the cut:
"Fully recovered" is another matter altogether, and I'm not there yet. I'm still wearing out; I have no reserves. I fell asleep on Secondborn's bed last night while the boys were playing games and I was trying to read. So, basically, I passed out with the lights on, and only woke up because the boys got into a minor tiff right outside the doorway. And even with an early evening nap, I was still back in bed by ten o'clock.
I'm not sick anymore. I'm just tired.
So, more music - this time I think I'll put it below the cut:
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Real Work Conversations: Fonts
Me: "If I ever design a font, I'm going to name it Ellie."
Boss: "Ellie?"
Me: "Sure. It'll be the Ellie font in the room."
Boss: {throws stapler at my head}
Boss: "Ellie?"
Me: "Sure. It'll be the Ellie font in the room."
Boss: {throws stapler at my head}
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Turn To Me, And The Cage Goes Away
She was at a party. She wasn't entirely sure where it was, or how she had gotten there, but it was definitely a party: rooms full of people talking, laughing, eating, drinking. She didn't know any of them, and found herself moving through them in a succession of polite smiles and nodded acknowledgements; she wasn't ignored, but she wasn't engaged, either. Seeking the fringes of the event, she drifted out of the lavish ballroom and along a short hallway. There were windows, but she couldn't make out anything in the darkness outside them. There was a smaller room ahead, and she slipped into it gratefully. Three men were playing cards at a small table in one corner, but Linda ignored them in favor of the bookshelves that lined the walls.
For a moment, she was distantly aware that she was sleeping on a narrow cot in a concrete cell, wrapped in a rough blanket. There was no door, and only high, barred windows; the air was cold and damp, and all she had with her was what she'd been sleeping in: a tee shirt and a pair of boxers. Her throat hurt from screaming and sobbing, for all the good that had done. Nobody had come, and even if they had, how could they get her out? For that matter, how had she gotten there in the first place? Was she still in her closet, somehow? Or had she been brought somewhere else?
The dream was comforting, a blessed relief from all that, and Linda sank back into it gratefully. She pulled a book from the shelves, and opened it. Then she laughed in delight as the words and images of the story spun around her. A young sorceress was setting out from her family keep, on a journey that almost certainly wouldn't end where she expected...
"Turn to me," said a voice behind her. She was back in the room, still facing the row of books. The table in the corner was empty, the deck of cards neatly stacked at its center. Linda straightened, but kept her eyes on the book. The images, the story, had collapsed back into words on the page.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Turn to me," said the voice, "and the cage goes away."
In the darkness of her cell, Linda woke up shivering.
For a moment, she was distantly aware that she was sleeping on a narrow cot in a concrete cell, wrapped in a rough blanket. There was no door, and only high, barred windows; the air was cold and damp, and all she had with her was what she'd been sleeping in: a tee shirt and a pair of boxers. Her throat hurt from screaming and sobbing, for all the good that had done. Nobody had come, and even if they had, how could they get her out? For that matter, how had she gotten there in the first place? Was she still in her closet, somehow? Or had she been brought somewhere else?
The dream was comforting, a blessed relief from all that, and Linda sank back into it gratefully. She pulled a book from the shelves, and opened it. Then she laughed in delight as the words and images of the story spun around her. A young sorceress was setting out from her family keep, on a journey that almost certainly wouldn't end where she expected...
"Turn to me," said a voice behind her. She was back in the room, still facing the row of books. The table in the corner was empty, the deck of cards neatly stacked at its center. Linda straightened, but kept her eyes on the book. The images, the story, had collapsed back into words on the page.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Turn to me," said the voice, "and the cage goes away."
In the darkness of her cell, Linda woke up shivering.
Monday, March 3, 2014
The Hunter Prince: An Invisible Friend
Cyjar was on his way to dinner when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, but nobody was there. A ghost? Puzzled, he started walking again. Three strides later, someone tapped his shoulder - this time on the other side. He stopped and took a careful look around.
This hallway ran along the outer wall of the central keep, so there was light from the arrow slits along the left-hand wall in addition to the glow-glasses in their sconces. Glow-glass was created by enchanting regular glass, so it could be made in any shape. In this area of the castle, the glow-glasses had been shaped to resemble flames, and they lined the hall at regular intervals. There was no shortage of light here, and no place for anyone to hide.
There was also nobody else anywhere nearby.
After a moment Caijar shrugged and started walking again. This time, when he felt the touch on his shoulder, he reversed directions and swept his arm out in a wide circle. He felt his fingers brush across something (it felt like cloth) and heard a sudden intake of breath.
A moment later Morius was standing beside him.
Cyjar took a quick step back, raising his arms to a fighting position. Morius wasn't going to attack him, so he didn't really need to defend himself; but having someone appear out of empty air beside him was startling enough that it took a moment for the recognition of his friend to catch up with Cyjar's initial, startled response. As soon as it did, he put his arms back down.
Morius looked apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said. "I've been studying illusions, and the best way to practice is to try them out on people who aren't expecting them."
"Well," said Cyjar, adopting a tone of careful judgement that sounded as much like their teacher, Master Barigil, as he could manage. "I trust you've learned a valuable lesson about the effectiveness of illusion magics: they work far better if you don't go around touching people when you're trying to remain unseen."
Morius grinned. "A valuable lesson indeed. I shall mark it down in my notes, alongside the one that says, 'Never be late for dinner'."
Exasperated, Cyjar asked: "Well, whose fault is that?"
"Not mine," said Morius. "Not if we hurry."
This hallway ran along the outer wall of the central keep, so there was light from the arrow slits along the left-hand wall in addition to the glow-glasses in their sconces. Glow-glass was created by enchanting regular glass, so it could be made in any shape. In this area of the castle, the glow-glasses had been shaped to resemble flames, and they lined the hall at regular intervals. There was no shortage of light here, and no place for anyone to hide.
There was also nobody else anywhere nearby.
After a moment Caijar shrugged and started walking again. This time, when he felt the touch on his shoulder, he reversed directions and swept his arm out in a wide circle. He felt his fingers brush across something (it felt like cloth) and heard a sudden intake of breath.
A moment later Morius was standing beside him.
Cyjar took a quick step back, raising his arms to a fighting position. Morius wasn't going to attack him, so he didn't really need to defend himself; but having someone appear out of empty air beside him was startling enough that it took a moment for the recognition of his friend to catch up with Cyjar's initial, startled response. As soon as it did, he put his arms back down.
Morius looked apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said. "I've been studying illusions, and the best way to practice is to try them out on people who aren't expecting them."
"Well," said Cyjar, adopting a tone of careful judgement that sounded as much like their teacher, Master Barigil, as he could manage. "I trust you've learned a valuable lesson about the effectiveness of illusion magics: they work far better if you don't go around touching people when you're trying to remain unseen."
Morius grinned. "A valuable lesson indeed. I shall mark it down in my notes, alongside the one that says, 'Never be late for dinner'."
Exasperated, Cyjar asked: "Well, whose fault is that?"
"Not mine," said Morius. "Not if we hurry."
Friday, February 28, 2014
Radioactive
It's not that I didn't know the song - it's been, um, kind of inescapable, and I've heard at least two different covers of it already... It's that I'd never watched the video. So, here's Imagine Dragons with Radioactive.
...Because post-apocalyptic muppet death-match arena, that's why.
...Because post-apocalyptic muppet death-match arena, that's why.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)