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Best line I've written today:

"The darkness in them wasn't their soul. It was just the empty place where a soul should've been."


Dream Quotes

The clearest part of last night’s dream was someone (possibly Okoye) saying:

“I spoke in anger and I apologize.” The witch (maybe) replied:

“I answered out of spite. We’re even.”


Here’s a rambling little story.

Many moons ago, when I was a wee sprig of a girl in the 2nd grade, there was some kind of state-wide writing contest. I don’t remember what I wrote, but it won for my grade level. I got to go with the other winners to the state capitol for some kind of writer’s panel that was going on.

The only thing I cared about was that Maurice Sendak was there. He read one of his stories and talked during the panel. As a seven-year old, I didn’t care beans about the adults’ questions and all the debate with the other authors about writing things. I only cared about the story. So, while they all talked about the technical parts, I drew a picture of Mr. Sendak sitting there, holding the paper in front of him, with one of his own Wild Things creeping up behind him.

My teacher insisted I show it to him, and led bashful little me up to the table after the speakers were finished. I gave him the drawing and Mr. Sendak was very gracious. He drew a Wild Thing of my own for me and gave me a signed copy of Where the Wild Things Are. I was over the moon for the rest of the day and the only other thing I remember was that an older lady came up at a different panel and read a poem. All I remember from that was that I liked it, and the repeated line “I flapped and I flewed.”

Now, decades later, I have come across this. It’s a little different, but I think it must be the same poem. I don’t know if the improper grammar I remember is something I misheard, or just an affectation of the reader, but I think it’s the poem from all those years ago! I can't help but be ridiculously happy over that.

Nerd Dream

Ok, so in the dream, a person that I think might have been my Overwatch OC Marlowe was all bent out of shape because in one of the Avenger battles, Iron Man had accidentally crushed two of her brothers under a thrown building or something. Maybe it was the A off the Stark Industries tower that was knocked loose in some epic battle, but whatever it was that killed them, she was. Most. Put. Out.

So much so that she confronted him over this in his own command center. Thor was no help since all he could talk about was weregild and what not, and apologies just don't cut it when your big and baby brother had to be removed from the sidewalk with a hose.

So she decides the big lug in the cape is right and that only blood will pay for blood. Tony informs her that he is an only child, so that's not going to work either.

"Only legitimate child," she hisses back. "Luckily, ol' Howard spread his bastards far and wide enough that it shouldn't be too much trouble to find them." And she hacks all his screens so that it tracks down the files of all these random men who maybe do look a lot like Tony and/or Howard.

"Two half brothers should equal one full brother," she says. "So four of these are going to die with your name cut into their bellies."

Poor Tony tries to argue, but she says something like. "You ever think that the reason he didn't care that much for you was because by the time you were born the novelty of being a dad had worn off?"

And there was more after that, something about the ghost of an exiled Wakandan kept in a jar until it could be delivered to the spirit realm to scream at the king who had banished her, and someone singing The Parting Glass over the death of an animal and Bucky joining in because he remembers this song, but it's all blurry after that.


complicating the issue with logic

Ever wake up with a song in your heart? Or at least in your head?

Mine was "1951/What about the boy?" from The Who's Tommy, which I watched way too young to understand and then watched so many times through my teens that my sisters know all the songs too. I haven't seen it in years since then, but having the tune in my head got me thinking, which was my first mistake.

Spoiler alert:

If you haven't seen it, it starts out with a tragic love story about young lovers separated by war. He goes off to fight and is shot down over the ocean and she gets the official letter of death at her job in the bomb factory. Their child is born on the day peace is declared and everyone is gloriously happy, but she holds him and cries through the celebration for the love she lost who isn't there to see the boy. The boy is Tommy, by the way.

Years later, still lonely and sad, she takes her now 7 or 8 year old son to a holiday camp where she meets a man and falls in love. They move in together and all is well until a strange, scarred man in a military uniform appears in their house one night. He finds her in bed with the new man and screams at them. Understandably startled, the new man grabs the bedside lamp and hits the intruder in the head, killing him.

They look up in horror to see Tommy in the doorway and panic. Their hysterical insistence that Tommy "didn't hear it, didn't see it, won't say nothing to no one, ever in your life!" is what traumatizes the boy into being deaf, dumb, and blind and sets the stage for the rest of the story.

Now, something I hadn't considered all those other times I watched it so long ago was that, if the returned love was in his neatly pressed uniform, the military must've known he'd been found and sent him home, right? Shouldn't they have informed the family? Did they just drop him off at the door in the middle of the night? "Who knows if your wife even still lives here? It's been years after all. Ha ha! Good luck!" Shouldn't he have called and said "Baby, I'm alive! I'm coming home!"

So that part made no sense. And then, what jury in the world would convict a man for throwing a lamp at a screaming stranger threatening him over his own bed in the middle of the night? They should've just called the police. Sent the boy to therapy. Got new locks for the door. Agreed what a tragedy it all was and moved on.

It's not even clear if the wife recognized him as her first husband until afterwards. What did they even do with the body? They go straight from that to trying to figure out how to undo the damage to Tommy.

Anyway, I am very aware that all of this would've stopped the story 1/5 the way in and there wouldn't have been any more rock musical about the self and awareness and bullying and child abuse and crazy religious imagery.

And we would've missed Tina Turner as the Acid Queen and Elton John as the Pinball Wizard, Jack Nicholson as the doctor and Eric Clapton as head of the Marilyn Monroe church. Things don't have to make sense all the time, I guess.

More Dreams

I had a cartoon dream last night. It was beautifully animated, lots of fireflies and bioluminescence. There were two teenagers who are supposed to be in love. One looked like Keith from the new Voltron, but his Dad was live-action Norman Reedus. Norman was desperate to protect him from something and it had something to do with the love interest. There was some great disaster coming and they scramble to save everyone until it’s too late to get away. And there’s a tidal wave coming, and they can’t escape, so they just hold hands and wait for it, but as soon as the water hits the love interest, she finds out she has gills and she can save him.

And that’s all I remember before I woke up.


And now the strike has been over for awhile! Go us!

The new cause is the pipeline. Or stopping it anyway. The tree sitters have been doing their damnedest to halt the land clearing and have done a good job. On the VA side of the mountain, they have rigged up a monopod in the middle of the logging road. It's brilliant. It's held upright with cables and one of the cables is attached to the gate. If the pipeline workers open the gate, the monopod will drop and hurt/kill/maim the tree sitter inside. So they can't. Or at least they haven't.

I don't know if I'm lacking the courage or just the faith in human decency, but I don't think I could put myself on the line like that. To keep anyone from helping the tree sitter inside, the Forest Service has closed the road to the monopod. We had to walk up through the woods to take the ground crew some blankets and supplies. In the middle of a snowstorm, of course.

While we were there, the Forest Service showed up and told us that the whole area had been closed in a 125 foot range on either side of the road, so the ground crew (all there to keep an eye on the monopod and video tape anything anyone tried to do to the tree sitter) were required by law to move that far away and would be arrested if they came any closer. They had an hour to move their whole camp. They got this notice about 45 minutes before sundown. In a snowstorm. Of course.

Our plan had been to hike back out before it got dark, but the Forest Service captain or whatever she was promised us a ride out if we needed it. Since we had safe transport out, we stayed to help the ground crew move their camp 125 feet away. By then, the captain had left and the agents remaining had no idea we were promised a ride so they refused to do it.

So, me and my mom with a bad knee had to hike back out through the brush and briars (125 feet from the road) in the dark, in a snowstorm. Two of the ground crew gallantly escorted us to make sure we made it, but it took a long time and we were all cold and went and briar-torn by the time we got back on 'legal' public land.

It's pretty clear that the whole thing was planned from the beginning to be as inconvenient and miserable as possible for the ground crew, and that the plan is to starve out the tree sitter by not letting anyone close enough to bring her food or water. I'm personally miffed that promises were made and then bailed on.

Our response? Today we went to a Direct Action activism class and took Legal Observer Training so we can be Legal Observers next time. It's not much, maybe, but it's something.
Well, It did snow. And I did have to reschedule all the conferences. And then I drove an hour to the meeting to decide what we should all do.

And at one point I fell on my knees on the slick concrete whilst carrying a vintage television set that weighs almost as much as I do.

I did get to hang out with the nieces and nephew though and I wrote a little < a href="https://31-days.livejournal.com/3332990.html">Beetlejuice</a> fic.


Ok, so it might snow, and if we get a snow day then I have to reschedule SO many conferences. It makes me sad just to think about all those phone calls. Maybe the snow can hold off til Wednesday when all this is done.

Also, the state may be going on strike if they can't get PEIA to cooperate. The last time the state went on strike was 1990 and I but a mere sprig of a girl. I don't want to do this again, but my mother didn't raise a scab and I wouldn't be able to face her ever again if I let someone else picket for me. So.

The good news is that I wrote a Shape of Water fic. The bad news is I had a good idea for yesterday's prompt but never got around to it. Guess I'll save it for Amnesty Day.

Dodge Ram

I gotta get rid of a ram, y'all.

They bottle fed it and now it's big and its worse than a cat. It'll cuddle one minute and headbutt you the next. It tried to smash through the shed door when I was getting it food. I had to run from it to get back inside. And now it's being all cute again. Yeesh.

Anyway, I did do a Strange Magic fic. It's kinda goofy and short, but it's keeping me writing when my big fics leave me a little preoccupied.

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