Why is a raven like a writing desk?

It’s the return of the interview meme, with the following rules:

1. Leave me a casual comment of no particular significance, like a lyric to your current favorite song, your favorite kind of sandwich, or maybe your favorite game. Any remark, meaningless or not.
2. I will respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better.
3. Update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
4. Include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in your own post.
5. When others respond with a desultory comment, you will ask them five questions.

Questions posed by fishy1 are behind the cut

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Wanna go “up”, and wanna go “fast”

I had occasion last night to reflect on how incredible my friends are.

It’s been one crisis after another for the last four months, and at every turn, someone’s stepped up and had my back. I don’t think there can be many people out there as lucky as me.

Once again, furniture had to be moved, this time with about 45 minutes notice. To my great surprise, ptownhiker, fixitup, and Dwight all showed up and were rewarded with booze, food, and Radar Men From the Moon.

You guys are all wonderful. Not just the three who were here last night, but all of you.

Yes, I’m mushy tonight.

EDIT: Oh, I almost forgot: Badger Trance

By Klono’s carballoy claws!

I love E.E. “Doc” Smith’s Lensman series. Many of the reasons why I love it are succinctly expressed in the comments to this other user’s LJ entry, in which jordan179 discusses all the SF cliches that Smith practically invented.

One of my favorite comments to the entry is: “When I read a lot of modern science fiction of the “doomed to disaster” variety, I often think that what the characters in the story need is an E. E. “Doc” Smith or John W. Campbell Engineer-Hero to come along and knock the problem on its head a few times.” I talked about this in my “zombie horror” entry. Too many SF / Fantasy characters these days have already given up, and won’t even try to do something about the horrible situation they’re in.

This lead me to the following link: “The Doom that Came to Necropolis”. Imagine a Cthulhu Mythos story starring a square-jawed man of Science! who won’t be cowed by shadows in the dark…

Funeral scribbling

Got back last night from Salem / Roanoke. rhaps and shrewlet let us stay overnight at their place with no notice, and Rhaps even came down to the service on Friday. I’m really glad, too because it was one more familiar face for raininva, and I think that meant much to her.

Dad thought highly of both Rain and Starr, and I felt they should both be there. The family proved their great class by welcoming and supporting them both; I don’t know if I’ve even been prouder to be an O’Brien. Beth, Cathy, Benny and Jamie (old-guard Batron Starfleeters) showed up for the public reception on Thursday too. Interestingly, time_shark‘s name came up a few times, as it turns out that my dad and my dad’s dad knew Nelson Bond’s family pretty well, and I got to reminiscing with some of the Bonds and their friends about the Showtimers and the southwest Virginian fiction community.

My father was involved in fascinating stuff I never even heard about, stuff I can’t even talk about here. There was a long stretch of my life where I wasn’t close to the man, but I thought I had a pretty good idea who he was and what he got up to. I was right in some ways, and completely wrong in others. I wonder what else I missed?

My sister Whitney, of whom you’ve heard me talk almost nothing here because we too have been somewhat out-of-touch, asked me to be a pallbearer. I was honored, and I’m not sure I could have been talked out of at least trying… but this may have been the stupidest testosterone-induced promise I’ve ever made. I’m not supposed to lift over 25 pounds since the hip surgery; to be fair, I violate this on occasion, but usually with discretion. I strained several muscles, and nearly fell over once. Thank goodness no one said anything. At least I did no actual damage to myself.

Whitney’s one-year-old daughter Kennedy was with her for the two Thursday receptions. Baby singing and the throw-the-toy-on-the-floor game was exactly what I needed that day. Everytime the walls started to close in, I’d just look at Kennedy’s innocently quizzical expression, and things got a tiny bit better.

Friday on the way home, I stopped by my Mom’s, and she and Starr and I grabbed some lunch. While trying to dig up some Tintin comics I wanted to re-read, I found my old I.P.M.S. award for the Ether Flyer Thunderchild model, as well as some Pathfinder group shots and another portion of my dice collection. I can’t believe how much of my life is still at Kentland. I despair of fully sorting through it.

This too, is a bit rambly, but I’m getting closer to my center again. Tried to do a little fiction today, but the headspace isn’t there, and I’m determined to write something. I don’t have the luxury that a Conan Doyle character would of six months of “brain fever”. Bills gotta be paid, chores gotta be done, and life goes on.

And on a crass note, Dad was going to take care of my Dragon*Con travel for me. This isn’t an entitlement whine, but a note that I don’t have a Plan B yet. We’ll have to see what I can work out.

Pushing words through the mush in my skull

I mentioned in a Friends-locked entry a few days ago that my father passed away over the weekend. I locked it because I didn’t know almost anything about the situation at the time, and because I wasn’t quite ready to share publically before I talked to all the family. They all know now, and I know more about the circumstances. There’s no need to share much besides the facts that it was apparently natural and quick.

I’m kind of a mess right now, though I don’t think you’d know to look at me. I haven’t been sobbing or screaming or clawing at the walls, but I’ve been pretty depressed all week, and I’ve had fever-like symptoms off and on every day. My appetite’s been weird too. I’m hoping that the reception and service Thursday and Friday will help clear my psyche.

Perfect time to be making a four hour drive each way, huh? Luckily, I can do that completely on autopilot.

Lots of people offered support both online and off. All I can say is that you folks are wonderful. I am absolutely blessed to have so many excellent people offering me their thoughts and prayers… that’s helped more than you can imagine.

Rambling a bit today, and I know it, but well, I need to ramble.

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