Ravings of a Textual Deviant

“I’m a problem thinker. I think alone, I think when I drive, I think to escape…I can’t wait ’til my next think.” —AP

Things had been a little slow since we killed the pyrohydra. We were making our way toward a castle or fortress or whatever the appropriate name for such a structure is at this point in time in order to conquer it. Or at least, defeat its current resident, one Lord Garlac. Delta is a little bit unclear as to why we’ve undertaken this particular objective, but Demetrios assures her that it’s a good idea, so she is willing to go along for the entertainment value, if nothing else.

Skulax-and-Diogi (Kerberos’s two-headed little brother) also thinks it’s a good idea, but he thinks that about anything that presents him with an opportunity for food or killing things.

We stayed a few days in the town so that Demetrios could work in the forge a bit and Timandra the nymph could have a “festival” (about which the townsmen were far more excited than the townswomen). Demetrios made some nifty weapons and armor for all of us, including magical, leopard-hide bikini armor for the nymph. He still can’t believe he actually consented to do such a thing, and probably blames Delta for introducing Timandra to the concept of “bikini”.

Well, how do you explain the concept of “tanning” without mentioning a bikini? Frankly, Demetrios should be glad that Delta doesn’t mind a few tan lines.

Distractions and fashion statements aside, we are now making our way westward. Things were fairly uneventful until we literally stumbled across a bear trap. Fortunately, most of us were flying at the time and nobody actually fell in, thanks to Demetrios’s quick reflexes.

Things went far less well for the hunters who had dug the bear trap. Delta was about to launch into a stern lecture on maintaining safe thoroughfares, but before she could really get going, six of the seven were incinerated by Demetrios and the last one was snuffed by the nymph’s lightning bolt. That pretty much put an end to her spiel on the importance of infrastructure maintenance, as what’s the point without an audience. Apparently, Delta was the only one who had realized that they were more-or-less harmless normal humans, which led to the following discussion:

Delta: What have we learned about hasty incinerations?
Skulax-and-Diogi: It’s fun!
Timandra: It’s easy!
Demetrios: It works.

Delta spent the next few minutes quietly chanting what will probably be her favorite mantra for a while, “It’s not my karma…”

After finding the trap, we did get to go talk to a bear for a while, (and as an editorial aside, our DM’s ability to role-play animals is both exceptional and amusing) to do our bit to promote peaceful human-ursine relations. Given that the only bear hunters in the neighborhood had recently been exterminated, Delta is optimistic on that front, at least.

Shortly thereafter, we found the village from whence the bear hunters had departed. Turns out that the very Evil Overlord with whom we are planning to do battle forcibly recruited half the men from the village for his army a while back. The other half, of course, had met an unfortunate fate whilst bear-hunting…not that we bothered to convey that particular fact to the remaining villagers. There was a long conversation with the lone remaining adult male villager that Delta missed out on, as she’d transformed herself into a two-headed cat and led Skulax-and-Diogi on an extended game of chase-tag, in order to keep him distracted from the fact that villagers are both eminently killable and edible. Fortunately, some squirrels and a deer made the ultimate sacrifice instead.

So now, Demetrios has a major case of the guilts; Timandra has used up all of Delta’s suntan lotion; Skulax-and-Diogi has eaten a few squirrels and settled down for a nap; and Delta has discovered that if one is going to eat raw squirrels in two-headed cat form, it’s probably best to remain in that same form until the digestive process is complete.

Me: This trend of 15 degrees colder every morning isn’t going to end well.

A: Yesterday I didn’t want to bother wearing a coat, so I thought I’d just move to Miami.

I recently discovered that the yoga teacher training school I’ve been studying with has rolled out a 500-hour RYT program.

I probably won’t look into this for the near future, partly because I don’t see being able to spend three weeks in either Oregon or India any time soon. Also, at this point, it’s not my primary job, and that would be a major investment of time and money. And finally, I want to let them work out the kinks and make any changes that need to be made before I start. So, perhaps some day in the indefinite future…

Still, I am very excited about this new program, because there are a couple of new 4-day seminars on yoga therapy that I would like to take—that’s much more doable, both in terms of time and cost.
Between the new offerings and all the existing classes that I’d like to take, I am set for continuing education units for the next dozen years.

And by the time I’ve gotten through all of those, I hope that there will be yet more classes that I will want to take. Because all of us who have RYT certifications, whether 200-hour or 500-hour, are going to need those CEUs.

I don’t really like my job, and sometimes I half-ass it. A lot of the time, actually. I feel vaguely guilty about that, but not enough to work harder…only enough to reassure myself that I’m not a complete bastard, just burned out.

The high point of my year is the Darwin awards—not the announcements, but watching the winning entry. The rest of the time, it’s “another day, another dead guy.” One more soul to chauffeur to its final destination.

I’d like to think it used to be more fun, or at least more interesting. Unfortunately, like taxes, it wasn’t.

What it should have said: [System] is hosted within the [SharePoint] platform.

What it actually said: [System] is hosed within the [SharePoint] platform.

A reference to wiping one’s behind with an owl does not constitute work-appropriate conversation.

They’re going to tax you anyway, so you might as well represent.

2 C peanut butter
2 C brown sugar
3 eggs

Combine ingredients. Chill the batter until it’s not too sticky. Drop teaspoons onto greased or lined cookie sheet; flatten with fork. Bake for 10-12 minutes at 350 degrees.

I haven’t tried this variation yet myself, but I bet they’d be absolutely devastating with chocolate chips, too.