Sweetums

still not King

I spent the first couple of months of the pandemic getting by with bandanas because why spend money if you don't need to. (I got an enormous kick out of sporting the Red Dead Redemption look at the bank, I gotta tell yah.) But since this looks like it's going to be a long term thing, I've decided to start collecting a few masks as well. If nothing else I'm really hoping this normalizes people wearing masks when they have colds and flus so my asthmatic ass can stop getting bronchitis every winter.

This has since ramped up to treating masks like every black concert t-shirt I have ever bought and buying ones I like whether I need them or not. (Seriously, I have a cardboard box in my basement with "Siobhan has too many black t-shirts" scrawled on the side in sharpy.)

The Axe has been buying Cyberoptix gorgeous silk ties for years now. She recently started making masks so I bought the Facehugger and Pinhead designs.

Hoax Couture is a local business that normally make bespoke fashion and who have started making masks. For every one purchased they donate two to frontline workers so I bought a couple of their cammo prints and I LOVE THESE MASKS. They ear-bands are adjustable so I can get them to stop slipping off my mutant tiny ears and they are so comfy.

Now I'm just waiting on these Eat The Rich masks that some friends put together.

As a direct result of this flurry of consumer activity, Facebook is now sending me ads for masks about every third post. Some of them are advertising that they are indigenous or POC businesses, so my resolve not to click on FB ads is kind of wavering here. Maybe if I just... write down the name and look it up on a different computer? Think that would work to circumvent the Zuckerberg empire?

***

My Covid test came back negative so I scheduled my residence visit on Friday. I made arrangements with a wheelchair company rep to meet me there, notified the residence of the plan and packed a bag of thing to bring with me. I made arrangements to borrow BC's car to drive there and made an appointment to pick up my new masks on the way. And then I spent the entire drive saying, "What did I forget? I've forgotten something, haven't I? What is it?"

I hadn't forgotten anything but man. My brain is all over the place these days.

***

Work is unreal right now, which is probably contributing to my sense that I'm dropping balls all over my feet. The project team just keeps plopping new work in our collective lap, none of the reporting works right in the new system, and because we are off-our-melons busy, this is the perfect week to start interviews for a position that's been open since February.

I need a vacation so badly. I have some time booked off in September and we are planning on spending the first week repainting and rearranging the ground floor. Then the Axe is lobbying for a camping trip or something but I keep pointing at the empty bank account. I'm more inclined to just build a fire in the backyard for a few nights and call that camping.

***

Today I discovered that the Spanish word for a goth is Siniestro. I am delighted by this. This entry was originally posted at https://the-siobhan.dreamwidth.org/535202.html. There are comment count unavailable comments on this post. Please comment there using OpenID.
Sweetums

they bring diamonds and rust

Cross-posting to LJ has been broken for a while and I'm just now getting around to doing something about it. So we'll see if this works.

Basement DJ was sick for about three days and then recovered completely. His test came back negative so at this point we're thinking it wasn't Covid. My plan is to get re-tested next weekend and visit the old man the Friday after.

***

Somewhere in the middle of this Toronto had a tornado watch and I would have missed it if my sister hadn't texted me about it. From Spain.

***

A group called the Afro-Indigenous Rising Coalition set up a tent city in front of Toronto City Hall and they recently got kicked out, so they've moved into the big park up the street from my house. I'm not up that way often so the first I heard about it was somebody on the mailing list suggesting people call the non-emergency police line to ask they be moved. I was extremely gratified that the overwhelming response to their suggestion was WTF, NO DON'T CALL THE POLICE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING? There is currently a discussion going on about organizing a neighbourhood group to help them with things like supplies and access to laundry.

***

I'm looking at resuming my books read posts, and man it's a short list. I used to be one of those kids that would carry as many books home from the library as they would let me check out, and now look at me. This entry was originally posted at https://the-siobhan.dreamwidth.org/534055.html. There are comment count unavailable comments on this post. Please comment there using OpenID.
wormtooth

never make a pretty woman your wife

From a personal relationship perspective, the worst thing about his lock-down is that I can no longer pretend not to know how much time Axel spends playing video games.

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Sweetums

It starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aeroplane, Lenny Bruce is not afraid

A couple of weeks ago I said to BC, "You know, as an extreme introvert with social anxiety and a mild case of vertigo-induced agoraphobia, I am probably uniquely qualified to manage an extended quarantine without any negative repercussions."

That may have been a slight exaggeration. I mean I definitely have some Feelings going on around the fact that this is happening exactly a year after Darrell died from the flu. You know, a respiratory virus that we actually have a vaccine for that large numbers of people won't actually vaccinate themselves against. But I'm pretty sure I'd be having Feelings regardless of the existence of the current plague, so. You know.

I could also really do without my friends and family getting sick. So if the universe could just jot that one down, I'd really appreciate it.

**

I am still employed, working, and earning income. Axel is making more money not being able to work than he did when he was working in the "gig economy". Capitalism is so broken.

**

The 1.5 hours per day I used to spend commuting is now spent exercising instead. Which is awesome for my serotonin levels. After years of not really leaving my house I suddenly feel like I have all the spoons and energy needed to be able to go out and spend time with people I miss.

Irony, no?

The corollary to that is that commuting time used to be when I did my reading and Spanish lessons, so I basically haven't touched them in a month. Not sure how to slot them back in. Maybe when the executor shit is done with.

I also decided to try my hand at growing vegetables from seeds and it's practically a Stephen King short story in here, WHERE DID ALL THE GREEN SHIT COME FROM I have never been able to keep a plant alive for more than a couple of weeks in my life before and now I am drowning in the damn things. I'm going to start putting extra plants in the Free Library because there is no way my backyard has room for all this. I honestly expected half of them to die before taking over my entire house.

**

None of my work has actually gone away, everything is just harder and takes longer. I have had to un-sub from a couple of mailing lists who kept sending me chirpy "Things to do while you're bored!" emails. (I'm looking at you NaNoWriMo.) Not surprisingly I don't react well to the message that everybody in the world is on vacation except me, regardless of how bullshit I know it is.

**

Hangin' in there. Hoping you are too.

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Sweetums

everybody except me and my monkey

I was reading the risk factors for Covid-19, and apparently moderate to severe asthma is on there. So I guess that's me? I tend to undersell my own vulnerability to shit like this, I get horrendously sick (I caught swine flu when that was thing, and boy howdy was that Not Fun) and I just power through it like an asshole.

Anyway the Evil Overlords are on lockdown starting tomorrow. I'm in the group deemed non-critical, meaning I can work from home, but not during Prime Time because they want to make sure the critical folks have access during core business hours. So I'm going to be on night shift for the next couple of week. This is not a bad thing at all, I am much better at working nights than I am at getting up in the morning. Not having to commute (or wear pants) cuts a couple of hours out of my day. I can do yoga on my lunch break. I can sleep in. If the ground thaws I can dig in the yard during the day. I can deal with banks and lawyers and Executor Shit during the day. (Assuming they're still around and functioning.)

And for the moment at least, we're good for toilet paper.

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Sweetums

apparently Adam Clayton has a Kevin Bacon number of 3

So a couple of people said they were interested in reading the Adam Clayton story.

I got this story from my uncle, so if you have any quibbles with the details you can take it up with him.

Anyway, my uncle used to be in An Garda Síochána in Dublin. (He retired years ago.) In '89 he picked up Adam Clayton in a club for drugs. He didn't specify at the time what kind of drugs, but the newspapers afterwards all said marijuana. As my uncle put it, they normally wouldn't have cared but he was "playin' big man, passing it around, and being very loud about it". So my uncle brought him into the station.

Now according to my uncle they had an unofficial policy of not really wanting to arrest Very Famous People for minor shit. They didn't want the reporters, or the publicity, and they especially did not want fans showing up to try to get in to see their hero. So normal protocol was to shake a finger, say "Sir, Thou Shalt Chill Henceforth" and the Very Famous Person makes a shamed face says, "Sorry Won't Happen Again." Then everybody goes about their business and the dance starts over the following weekend.

Only what Clayton actually did was to swan into my uncle's office, sit in my uncle's chair, and put his boots up on my uncle's desk. And say, "Do you know who I am?"

So my uncle did what anybody would do - well, what anybody in my family would do - which is to say, "Yes I do. You're my nick". And threw him into a jail cell. And apparently his bosses weren't too happy about it, but once charges were laid they had to follow through.

(When my sister went to visit my family in Dublin, he asked her if she was a U2 fan, and took her into the station to show her the cell.)

So in summary, in 1989 Adam Clayton got charged with possession of marijuana. But he got arrested for sassing my uncle.

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